When I First Met Her
by Karsen Lavette
Summary: She turned to me. "Your mission was… what?" She asked, obviously still confused. "To keep us from achieving our mission?" My mind flashed back to earlier that day, when Joe had told us that he didn't want any of the girls to make it to him tail-free by five. I shrugged. "Something like that."
1. Chapter 1

**First time on FanFiction! I don't own the Gallagher Series (which is good, because then the books would be TERRIBLE); Ally Carter does.**

Zach's POV

A whistle blew and I instantly dropped from the chin-up bar. I looked to Dr. Steve, raising my eyebrows in question. "One-hundred seventy-six. Nice job, Zach." I nodded. Once all the boys were gathered around, Dr. Steve clapped his hands together. "Alrightie now. You," he said, pointing at a couple of senior boys, "and you" his gaze shifted to three of the juniors "and you three" he finished, his gaze resting on Grant, Jonas, and me. "Get showered and meet by the door in fifteen minutes. We've got a little trip planned."

"Yes, sir," we chanted in perfect unison before marching back to our dorms. Grant caught up to me, his shirt as wet with perspiration as mine. "What do you think's going on, Zach?" I shrugged. With our type of class trips, you never know what to anticipate. They're always unexpected. They never require a permission slip. Each one can almost guarantee an infringement on the rules. If something goes wrong on one of them, someone could get seriously hurt. Or die. I knew I should be nervous; any normal boy would be, but we're not normal. We're far from normal – Blackthorne boys have to be. They've trained us well, desensitized us to feelings like fear. Yep. At a school for assassins, you can guarantee that you're getting the toughest curriculum possible. Grant sighed and brought the bottom of his t-shirt up to his face, wiping away sweat. "Do you think we'll see Solomon?"

I shrugged again. "I have no idea, Grant."

"We haven't seen him in, what, six months?"

"Seven months, thirteen days," I corrected, but Grant kept talking as if I hadn't said anything.

"He's due for a visit, don't you think?" He sighed. "Man, what I wouldn't give to know ahead of time just once what we're doing."

We got back to our room and quickly showered and changed. Within ten minutes, the eight of us stood at attention while Dr. Steve paced in front of us. "Gentlemen, today you're playing with operatives who are very, very good. You would do well to keep that in mind."

We nodded as he opened the door, revealing a large chopper in the front lawn. "Dr. Steve," Jonas's voice cracked, and red instantly rushed to his cheeks. "Where are we going, exactly, sir?"

Dr. Steve smiled as he opened the door to the chopper. "Well, Jonas, let me ask you this – are you at all interested in United States government?"


	2. Chapter 2

"Zach, tell me. The act of detecting and evading surveillance procedures is called what?"

"Countersurveillance," I answered.

"Excellent," Dr. Steve said. "Just excellent." I could feel the seven boys seated around me simultaneously roll their eyes. The chopper began its descent, and I could feel my ears pop with the change in altitude. "I was instructed by someone to give you this," Dr. Steve said as the chopper touched down. "Meet back here at five thirty, sharp." He handed me an envelope and opened the door. We watched as he slowly walked away.

I opened the envelope and pulled out a small, typed sheet of paper.

Meet me at the ruby slipper exhibit right away. Don't worry about tails; you won't have any.

I raised my eyebrows. "Ready? It seems legitimate; I mean, I'm guessing it's from Joe…" One of the seniors rolled his eyes.

"No duh, Goode. We know what we're doing. Might I remind you that you are one of the youngest ones here, and therefore have the least experience?" I cringed at the comment, wanting to point out that, in my sixteen years, I had been on more assignments than he would see in his first thirty years of real field work. Instead, I bit my tongue and let him continue. "Of course it's from Solomon – who else would it be?"

I shrugged as the boys pushed their way past me out the chopper. Within fifteen minutes we were at the exhibit, and sure enough, Joe was waiting. He nodded. "Gentlemen," he greeted as he held up a pile of folders. "I need some help. Today," he paused, looking at each one of us before continuing. "you're going to be the tailer, but it's going to be tricky. They know they're going to be followed, and they're expecting seasoned operatives. Their job is to make it here," he pointed down, as if we couldn't figure out that _here_ indicated the ruby slipper exhibit, "without a tail, by five o'clock." He ran a hand through his hair. "Your job is to make sure that doesn't happen."

"Who are we tailing?" Seth, one of the junior, asked.

Joe smiled. "Boys, today you're tailing the people who will someday be the best of the best—"

"Gallagher girls," I said. I could feel the stares of the seven other boys. It was obvious from their reaction that none of them had ever heard of the Gallagher Academy for Exceptional Young Women. But Joe didn't stare, open-mouthed, like Grant was, or suddenly perk up at the word _girls_ like Caleb, one of the seniors did.

Instead, Joe just nodded. "Very good, Zach. Yes. You're going to be following eight girls from the Gallagher Academy for Exceptional Young Women."

"Who exactly are Gal-" Jonas started, but I cut him off.

"Joe, can I have a word with you real quick?" He raised his eyebrows, but moved about ten feet from the rest of the group. "I want to follow the Morgan girl," I stated. I wasn't begging him; I wasn't even asking him. I was telling him.

He crossed his arms. "You're just a sophomore, Zach."

"Isn't she?"

"She's good, Zach."  
"So am I."

"I don't know, Zach…"

"This is about my mom, isn't it?" I didn't wait for him to answer. "Joe, you know as well as I do that _I'm nothing like her_." I licked my lips before continuing. "But if she's as good as my mother says she is, then I want to see this girl in action." I sighed. "I won't tell my mother," I promised. "Why would I? She's not… I mean, we don't…" I took a deep breath. "I don't talk to her, anyways." I ran my hand through my hair. "Please, Joe. I want to see this legend in action."

Joe closed his eyes. I was sure he was thinking of the infamous Matthew Morgan, and for an instant I felt a pang of guilt, but slowly he nodded. He grabbed the folder from the bottom of the pile and handed it to me. "Cameron Morgan," he said. He handed me a comms unit. "This is for listening only. You can hear them, but they won't be able to hear you." He looked at me. "Your mother's right, Zach. She is good." He paused, and when he looked at me, he looked proud, like a father. "But so are you."

I smiled. "Thanks, Joe." I turned and began to leave, but looked back at him quick. "You won't regret this."

He laughed. "I already do. Now go. They need to be here by five, and it's already—"

"Three twenty-six," I finished for him. Joe nodded, and with that I left.


	3. Chapter 3

"And here the view is infinitely better." The voice cracked through the comms unit I was wearing. Grant caught my eye, and I could see his cheeks start to get red. I popped a red M&M into my mouth, then put the bag back in my pocket. The Morgan girl and a black girl, Baxter, stood about thirty feet from the bench Jonas and I were sitting on. The Morgan girl was cute, but in a simple way. She didn't stand out like the Baxter girl, who was gorgeous. The Baxter girl looked our way, and it wasn't hard to tell that she was talking about us. I looked at Grant, the same boy who, according to that short brunette civilian from one of our field exercises, is the "spittin' image of Brad Pitt." I laughed. "Ooh," Baxter said. "I want one!"

I looked over at Grant. "Fifty bucks if you go up to her right now and say it's a deal." I could tell he was still in shock. After all, he had just found out that a school, slightly similar to our own (but only slightly) existed for girls. And knowing Grant like I do, I'm sure he was terrified that there was a possibility that girls, _girls,_ could be better than us. I nudged him in the ribs and nodded towards the Baxter girl. "She seems like she'd be a great catch."

He gave me a death glare. "If she'd be such a great catch, then I'll give you fifty if you do."

I looked over at him. "Sorry, man. She's not my target – she's yours." I sighed. "But if you're going to be so generous with your money, then be ready to pay up, because by the end of the day, I'll have carried on a full conversation with the Morgan girl."

Grant rolled his eyes. "There is no way."

I slapped his back before standing up. "Be listening, my friend. You'll hear on the comms." The girls began walking away. "Duty calls," I said, and left Grant on the bench.

I weaved in and out of the pedestrian traffic, making sure to always keep the Morgan girl in sight. Every now and then I would catch sight of Grant, either across the street at the bus stop, in line at a street vendor, blending in unnoticed to the two girls we were following. For over an hour I remained hidden in the shadows, and in that hour I realized what Joe meant, what my mother meant when they said that she was good. It was hard keeping her in sight, and a couple times I thought I had lost her. She and the Baxter girl had split up, and as she headed to the elevator, I saw my chance. "Grant," I whispered, regardless of the fact that he couldn't hear me, "you better be listening." I reached out and pushed the elevator button just as she walked up. "Hey," I said.

"Hi," she replied. She pushed the elevator button again. I glanced at her school uniform – plaid skirt, white shirt, and a sweater bearing the crest and name of her school. Totally different from the uniform at Blackthorne.

"So, the Guggenheim Academy—"

"Gallagher Academy," she corrected. I rolled my eyes.

"Well I've never heard of it before," I lied. I seriously hoped Grant could hear this.

She looked somewhat annoyed as she said "Well, it's my school."

I smiled as I asked "You in a hurry?" I didn't add that it was four-forty, and she only had twenty minutes – I figured that would raise some questions. She rocked back and forth on her heels.

"Actually, I'm supposed to meet my teacher at the ruby slipper exhibit." Oh, fancy that. "I've only got twenty minutes, and if I'm late he'll kill me." I laughed, knowing that, with this girl, with that teacher, that could be the absolute truth.

"How do you know?" I asked, trying to not sound too amused.

She bit her lower lip. "Because he said, 'Meet me at the ruby slipper exhibit.'"

"No," I smiled and shook my head, wondering how a girl who could miscomprehend a question like _that_ ever landed a spot in such an elite school. However, I had seen her file, had listened to my mother as she rattled off detail after countless detail about her and her father. Her father… "How do you only have twenty minutes?" I pointed to her wrist, trying to refocus. "You're not wearing a watch."

"My friend just told me." The lie seemed to be effortless, and I tried to not be too impressed by the fact that, had I not known better, I would have believed her, no question. _So she can lie_, I thought to myself. Big deal. Poker players do it all the time.

She rocked back and forth on her heels again, and reached up a hand to push a wisp of hair out of her eyes. "You fidget a lot," I pointed out.

"I'm sorry," she apologized. "I have low blood sugar." I closed my eyes, trying to remember if I had somehow missed seeing that in the file Joe handed me. "I need to eat something." I shook my head, realizing that Joe had included _everything_ in her file: that her friends called her Cammie, that she was right-handed, that her favorite candy was M&Ms (and I promise it was a total coincidence that that particular candy was my snack of choice that day), even that her first name was her mother's maiden name. If Cameron Morgan had a blood sugar disorder, Joe would have included it. Any doubt I had about this girl's IQ went out the window at that point.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out the candy, holding it out to her. "Here. I ate most of them already."

She stepped back, obviously caught off guard. "No thanks," she said. "Thanks, though."

"Oh," I said, wondering if maybe Joe had gotten her favorite candy wrong – if maybe Joe Solomon had been _wrong_. Not likely. "Okay."

At that moment the elevator doors slid open, and she stepped out. "Thanks again for the candy," she said as I stepped out of the elevator too. She began walking toward the museum, and I followed. I was surprised when we actually made it ten feet before it occurred to her that something wasn't right.


	4. Chapter 4

"Where are you going?" She asked, and I could tell that she didn't really care, as long as the answer wasn't anywhere near hers.

"I thought we were going to the wonderful world of Oz," I said, holding up my hands and trying to look innocent.

"_We_?" She asked.

"Sure. I'm going with you." _Hear that one, Grant?_ I challenged.

"No you're not," she said, sounding almost fierce.

I simply shook my head. "Look, it's dark. You're by yourself. And this is D.C. And you've only got fifteen minutes to meet your teacher." I didn't let it bother me that my time wasn't exact, but I'm sure she noticed, and it most likely bothered her. I smiled at the idea of my being the brave knight in shining armor whom she thinks is trying to save her from the dragons of D.C. _If only she knew_, I thought.

Her shoulders dropped. "Fine," she said, admitting defeat, as I silently did a mental victory dance.

She quickened her pace. "You can really walk fast," I volunteered, trying to make conversation. She remained silent. "So… do you have a name?" I finally asked.

"Sure. Lots of them," she quipped, and I bit back laughter. Of everything she had told me, there wasn't a doubt in my mind that _that_ was the truth.

As we walked down the frozen Mall I saw Grant about fifteen yards to my left. He held up his wallet, and I shot him a look that I hoped he interpreted as _be ready to pay up, man, because the price just went from fifty to one-hundred._ "So," I said, trying to sound valiant. I ran my hand through my hair out of habit. "Do you have a boyfriend?"


	5. Chapter 5

I saw the lady selling umbrellas at the street vendor give the man buying a green and blue one two dollars less than he should have gotten for change. I saw the third streetlight on the right side of the street flicker. I saw the cop standing at the street corner spit out sunflower seeds. I saw Grant's jaw drop. And I saw the way the Morgan girl stiffened. "Look," she said, not trying to mask the annoyance in her voice. "Thanks for the chivalry and all, but it really isn't necessary. It's just up there." Her gaze shifted, and she pointed. "And there's a cop over there."

"What?" I asked, glancing at the cop. "You think that guy can do a better job protecting you than I can?" I did my best to sound insulted.

"No," she said, while putting her hands on her hips. "I think if you don't leave me alone, I can scream and that cop will arrest you."

I can testify that I've been in far worse situations than a small jail cell; it's in my record, and people with higher clearance than her could access that. But instead of point that out to her, I took a step back and smiled.

She smiled back, and I couldn't help it; for a split second, I forgot why I was there. Sure, she wasn't a knockout like her African-American friend, but she was pretty – really pretty. "Hey," she said, "thanks anyway."

I slipped around the back of the museum and made my way to the slipper exhibit. I just managed to make eye contact with Joe before the Morgan girl appeared. "You're four seconds late," I heard Joe say, and I smiled.

"But I'm alone," she argued.

I turned around as Joe said "No, Ms. Morgan. You're not."

I stepped out of the shadows and smiled at her. "Hi again, Gallagher Girl."

**I'm not sure if I'm going to add more, or just leave it at that; I haven't decided yet!**


	6. Chapter 6

"Nice work, Zach," Joe said, his eyes twinkling. I couldn't resist – I winked at her.

Her face burned. She stepped back as if she had been hit. For a fraction of a second, I thought she was going to cry. But then she did the unexpected: she arched an eyebrow, put a hand on her hip, and said "Hi, Blackthorne boy."

My mouth fell open. I could even see the shock register on Joe's face. But he quickly regained his composeure and said "Very good, Ms. Morgan." I, however, was trying to not let out a string of German expletives, because, let me tell you, being shown up by a girl is extremely embarrassing. "But not good enough," Joe finished, and for a moment I felt better; after all, she might have figured me out, but I still had kept her from reaching her goal.

She turned to me. "Your mission was… what?" She asked, obviously still confused. "To keep us from achieving our mission?"

My mind flashed back to earlier that day, when Joe had told us that he didn't want any of the girls to make it to him tail-free by five. I shrugged. "Something like that." Then I couldn't help it – I rubbed it in. "I thought I could just make you late for your meeting. I didn't think you'd actually tell me where it was and walk me halfway there." She reached out and put her hand on the wall, as if for support, and for a second I thought she was going to pass out. A group of tourists came up to the exhibit, and I saw Joe put his arm around her. I turned and walked away; after all, I had only twenty-five minutes and thirteen seconds to get back to Dr. Steve and the chopper.

Leaving the museum, I saw Grant waiting for me. He cocked his head and smiled a half-smile. "You, sir, are something else," he said as soon as I was within hearing distance.

I shrugged. "You heard, I take it?"

"Dude," he practically shouted, slapping me on the back. "How on earth did you do that? Get up the guts to talk to her like _that_?" He shook his head. "Very brave. Or very stupid."

I shrugged again. "I'm just a ladies' man, is all," I quipped. "So how did it go with you and the Baxter girl?"

He held out his fist. "Mission accomplished," he said as I pounded my fist to his. "She didn't even have a chance of meeting Solomon. Of course," his smile was especially wicked, "that might have partly been because I, uhm, spilled my hot chocolate all over her."

I felt my eyes go wide. "You did _what_? Man, Joe's going to kill you. You don't burn a girl that's not an actual threat to death!"

"Relax." Grant said. "She was fine with it. Or, she was as fine as any girl who was already running late and then got hot-chocolate-ed. Besides, Solomon never said that we had to be _careful_. If these girls are as skilled as he says they are, then I'm sure she'll get over the incident. Which brings up another thing." He stopped walking and turned to me. "How on earth did you know about the Gallagher Academy?"

I kept walking, pretending I hadn't heard, but Grant didn't buy it. He caught up with me and grabbed my shoulder. "Zach, hold on, man."

"Dr. Steve's going to be ticked if we're late, Grant," I said. He reluctantly kept walking.

"Seriously, Zach. You've got to tell me how you knew."

I shrugged. "I overheard Joe mention it last time we saw him," I lied. Grant didn't buy it.

"There's no way. You _knew _ about them. Like, seriously _knew_. Tell me how!"

This time I stopped walking. "Sorry, Grant. That's classified."

He shook his head. "No way, man. You're telling me."

My mother's face flashed in my mind then. There was no way I could tell Grant about her alma mater. "Seriously, Grant. Just drop it. It's not like we're ever going to hear about them again." Unfortunately, I had no idea how wrong I was.


	7. Chapter 7

"Excellent job today, boys," Dr. Steve gushed. "Just excellent." The boys around me practically glowed. Seth was the only one in a fairly bad mood.

"What happened, Jameson?" I asked, but Seth just glared at me.

Caleb laughed and slapped him on the back. "Aw, shake it off, Seth. I'm sure you'll get over getting beat by a _girl_," he sang out, emphasizing the "girl."

Seth shoved him. "Shut up, Caleb. That was terrible."

I glanced at him. "What was?"

Seth handed me a folder, and I opened it to see his mission:

NAME: ANNA FETTERMAN

AGE: 15

GRADE: SOPHOMORE

SCHOOL: GALLAGHER ACADEMY FOR EXCEPTIONAL YOUNG WOMEN

PHYSICAL FEATURES:

HEIGHT: 5'4"

HAIR: BLONDE

EYES: BROWN

PERSONALITY: WELL-LIKED; FOLLOWER; QUIET; RECOMMENDED TRACK: RESEARCH…

The list went on, but all I could focus on was her recommended track: research. If Joe had felt it necessary to include that, then it was obvious he was not expecting her to finish her mission. I raised my eyebrows in question at Caleb, who just laughed.

"So, Goode," Seth asked, trying to change the subject. "Was it just me, or did I hear you over the comms unit having a rather controversial conversation with your target?"

I rolled my eyes. "Controversial, Seth? I just talked to her."

Seth licked his lips. "You know, talking to civilian girls during field exercises can be dangerous. You wouldn't want some _girl_ to get in the way of your mission, would you?"

I sucked in my breath. "First off, she wasn't a civilian. She's a highly skilled operative. Secondly, she didn't get in the way of my mission since she _was_ my mission. Besides," I said, "In my case at least, talking to her helped me accomplish my mission."

Seth shook his head. "Just stop, Goode. You always think you're better than the rest of us, don't you?"

"Well, now that you mention it," I quipped, "maybe I am."

"Mr. Goode," Dr. Steve's warning carried from the front of the chopper. "Gentlemen, we are almost back to school. I suggest that, whatever is going on, it ends before we land."

"Yes, sir," I said.

The silence in the chopper was deafening. Finally we landed, and filed out of the chopper. "Okay, gentlemen," Dr. Steve said once we were all safely on the ground. "Pack your bags for about a semester's worth of clothes and meet me down here in half an hour. You eight and seven other classmates of yours are going on a little trip."


	8. Chapter 8

The next morning Grant shook me awake. "Zach," he said, his voice panicked. "It's ten after!" I swore under my breath and bolted out of bed. Jonas was already up, hunched over his laptop. Over the course of the next twenty minutes, Grant and I were franticly throwing clothes the few clothes we had, along with the numerous pairs of khaki pants and white, button-down shirts we had received from Dr. Steve the day before into three suitcases while Jonas sat rigidly in front of his computer, staring diligently at the screen. "Wow," he muttered, and Grant and I stopped.

"What?" Grant asked, but Jonas ignored him. Grant shrugged and we went back to packing.

"Wow," Jonas said again, louder this time.

"What?" I asked this time. Jonas remained silent. Grant scowled and held up a black dress shoe as if he were about to chuck it at Jonas's head, which, in my opinion, wasn't a very bad idea.

"Wow," Jonas said again.

"Jonas!" Grant shouted.

Jonas looked up at Grant. "What?" he asked.

Grant sighed. "Is there something you'd like to tell us?"

Jonas turned red. "Oh, uh, it's nothing. It's just… We're going to Gallagher, aren't we?" he trailed off. "Hey!" He shouted as Grant snatched the laptop, and we both studied the screen. Both of us stopped short when we saw the main building – mansion, really, sitting so ornately on its manicured lawns. Jonas gulped. "Hey, guys? What are Gallagher girls, exactly?"

"Rich heiresses with nothing better to do than spend their parents money, by the looks of it," Grant said, but I remained silent, studying the building that I had heard about so many times from my mother.

"No," I finally said. "They're anything they want to be."

Jonas looked up at me. His eyes were big, round, full of question. I turned away before he could ask. I heard the laptop slam shut. "Okay," Jonas said, his voice sounding out of place in the awkward silence that had settled in the room. "Is my bag all packed?"

Grant sighed and tossed the heavy suitcase toward Jonas, nearly knocking him off his feet. I grabbed my own bag and left the room ahead of my roommates, my mind swimming with memories – my mother, short and beautiful, holding me in her lap at a high school football game when I was four, her eyes constantly scanning the crowds, or the sound of her voice as she held a classified phone conversation in the early hours of the morning, while I sat on the floor in my room, my ear pressed to the door, trying to hear details that I knew she would never even whisper if she knew I was awake. I could still picture the green dress she wore the day she first left for Ireland, could still smell her perfume. I could still picture her sitting down on the sofa, across from me when I was twelve, coming clean and explaining who, exactly, Ioseph Cavan was, what the Circle did.

Despite the warmth of the hallway, I shivered at the memories. I heard Dr. Steve's voice carry down the well-lighted corridor. "…the most exciting semester you've ever had, gentlemen. For the first time in our history, Blackthorne is doing an exchange with the Gallagher Academy. You will be taking classes there, living on the school grounds." He turned just as I walked up. "Ah, Zachary. I was just telling your classmates about where you're going."

I nodded. "Gallagher Academy. So I heard."

He crossed his arms. "Well, it's going to be an experience. That's for sure."

We silently boarded the chopper some of us had been on less than twelve hours before. Dr. Steve smiled. "Get comfortable, gentlemen. It's going to take a good three hours to get there." He leaned back and closed his eyes, and pretty soon his snoring filled up the small space we were seated in.

Grant looked at me. "So," he asked, a mischievous grin on his face. "What exactly are you going to say to the Morgan girl when you see her?"

"I don't know; I hadn't even thought about that," I lied. In truth, it was all I had thought about since Dr. Steve told us we were leaving the day before. Had I known I would be seeing her again, not only again, but a _lot_, I probably wouldn't have tried to act so, oh, what's the word… Cocky.

Grant elbowed me in the ribs. "Liar," he said, and I smirked. "So do you think you'll talk to her?"

I stared at Grant. "She's a sophomore, I'm a sophomore. She takes classes at the Gallagher Academy, I'm going to take classes at the Gallagher Academy. She lives on campus, I'm going to live on campus. The odds of my _not_ talking to her are…"

"Six-hundred thirty seven to one," Jonas and I said at the same time.

I looked over at him. "What?" he said. "You got it too, so don't look at me like that."

I shook my head. "Anyways, in answer to your question, Grant, yes. I do believe I'll talk to her."

Grant rolled his eyes. "You're unbelievable." He said.

"Thank you." I smiled.

Grant just stared. "I didn't mean that in a good way."

I shoved him. We rode in silence for the rest of the ride. Suddenly I heard one of the two eighth graders that came with us gasp. Grant, Jonas, and I knew what to expect, but for the rest of the guys, Gallagher Academy was _not_ what they were expecting. And who could blame them? The building looked like it belonged on a southern plantation; it was so big and beautiful. The large stone fence that surrounded the place looked like it stretched for miles, even from our view above it. Dr. Steve sat up and rubbed his eyes. "Ah, yes," he said. "Excellent. We're here. Gentlemen, may I welcome you to the Gallagher Academy of Roseville, Virginia."

The eighth grader tugged at the tie that was around his neck, identical to the ones we all wore. "I guess I was expecting something a little more, uhm," he trailed off.

"A little more like Blackthorne." I finished for him. He nodded. I put my hand on his shoulder. "Jacob, listen to me." His eyes went wide; no doubt he was surprised that a sophomore actually knew his name. "You know what's behind those walls?"

He nodded, his face solemn. "Girls." He gulped. "Spy girls. And they're good."

I shook my head. "Nope." I smiled at the confused look he gave me. "There are girls behind those walls. Just regular girls who just happen to know how to throw a person over their shoulders and make poisons out of just sewing needles and bubblegum. But hey," I continued. His brown eyes were large, taking in every word I said. "You know how to do all that stuff too." He smiled.

"One more thing, gentlemen," Dr. Steve announced. "As far as any of these girls are concerned," he looked at each one of us in turn. "You go to a school just like theirs. _Just. Like. Theirs._ Understand? The Blackthorne Institute is a school for future spies, and nothing more. Understand?" The chopper was silent. "I said," his voice was harsh, nothing like the way he normally sounded. "do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," We chanted.

He nodded. "Good. I would hate to have to alert the higher powers that someone had leaked classified information to anyone who doesn't have high enough clearance."

I closed my eyes, trying to not think of what would happen if those _higher powers_ became involved. The chopper softly landed, and we filed out, following Dr. Steve. "Now it's just this way," he said, heading toward the front doors when they flew open. Joe was standing inside the foyer, his arms crossed.

He turned without a word and began walking down the hallway. Dr. Steve silently followed, indicating for us to do the same. I could feel the boys behind me looking around, taking in their surroundings. I, however, faced straight ahead, keeping my vision on a glass case coming closer with each step. Joe stopped right before it. I stepped closer to look at the sword I had heard so much about. Joe's eyes met mine, and he gave a slight nod. "The girls are at breakfast right now," he announced. "You boys will be attending classes with the girls, starting today. Dorms are to the left." He looked at Dr. Steve, who smiled.

"Shall we have the boys get settled in now?" he asked.

Joe nodded. "Be back here in five minutes," he said, dismissing us.

Dr. Steve led us down the hallway, popping his head in a room, then assigning four boys to put their stuff there. After three rooms, just Jonas, Grant, and I were left. "Well, boys, it looks like it will just be the three of you in the room. I'll be in the room next door." He clapped his hands. "Alrightie, then. Why don't we head back to meet Solomon?"


	9. Chapter 9

We stood in a single file line outside the dining hall. I could just make out the words of a woman; I guessed she was the headmistress or something like that. "Excuse me, ladies," she said into a microphone, her voice carrying over the numerous conversations that were taking place. The hall instantly quieted. "but I have an announcement to make." Joe caught my eye, winked, and opened the doors, revealing a room of over one hundred girls who all simultaneously froze. I saw some girls drop their forks, and over half of them had their mouths hanging open.

Grant leaned over toward me. "Are all girls so… quiet?" he whispered, and I shrugged.

"The Gallagher Academy for Exceptional Young Women has a proud history," the headmistress continued. At the sound of her voice, I could feel the eyes of the boys around me shift, getting a glimpse of the woman standing at the podium at the front of the hall. I heard one senior whistle under his breath. One of the juniors turned red at the sight of her. "For more than a hundred years," I looked over at Dr. Steve, who I swear was drooling a bit. "this institution remained secluded, but yesterday, some of your classmates were able to meet another set of exceptional students from another exceptional institution." I scanned the tables, finally finding the girl I was looking for – the Morgan girl. I saw her go red at the headmistress's words. "Members of the Gallagher trustees, along with the board of directors from the Blackthorne Institute, have thought that our students would have a lot to learn from each other. And this year we're going to see it happen."

She went on, talking about the school's founder, and a bunch of other boring girly stuff. Finally, Dr. Steve made his way to the front of the hall, and stationed himself next to the headmistress. She smiled at him. "It's my pleasure to introduce Dr. Steven Sanders. Dr. Sanders…"

Dr. Steve stepped in front of her, and made it very clear that he preffered to be called Dr. Steve, _not_ Dr. Sanders. I rolled my eyes. The headmistress just nodded. "Of course," she said. "Dr. Steve and his students will be spending the remainder of the semester with us." She was beaming as she told the girls about the arrangements for the semester. I, however, wasn't listening. I leaned against a table, keeping my gaze fixed on the girl who sat towards the middle of the table. One of the other girls said something, and she looked over. Our eyes met. I smiled, and her face went red.

I like Dr. Steve. Really, I do. But I have to say, at times he can be, for lack of a better word, childish. Not in an immature, tells-disgusting-jokes-and-sneaks-whoopie-cushions-on-other-people's-chairs childish, but more, he's constantly trying to please. "Knock, knock," he said as he pushed open the door to one of the classrooms. A man who appeared too old to be classified as young, but too young to be classified as middle-aged, stood in front of a whiteboard. He turned to Dr. Steve, and it was easy to see his exasperated expression. "Good morning, ladies," Dr. Steve continued, ignoring the fact that the teacher of the class didn't seem at all happy about having his lecture interrupted.

The teacher sighed. "Can I help you, Dr. Sanders?" He asked in a way that indicated that he really didn't want to help at all.

Dr. Steve paused. "I say," he said, rubbing his chin, "your voice sounds so familiar. Have we met before?"

The teacher didn't even pause to think about it before he said "No, I'm quite sure we haven't." Dr. Steve rattled off numerous missions he had been on, but the teacher simply shook his head.

Finally, Dr. Steve gave up. "Shall we have the boys introduce themselves?" He asked.

The teacher sighed and grumbled something about names being temporary, but Dr. Steve just put his hand on Jonas's back, gently pushing him forward. I could see the terrified look on Jonas's face. After all, give him a computer and two minutes to hack into a government website, and he could handle it no problem. Put him in front of a group of girls, however, and, well, let's just say that if given the choice, Jonas would have no doubt chosen the computer. "Um, I'm Jonas," he stuttered. "I'm sixteen. I'm a sophomore…"

"Thus the enrollment in this class," the teacher interrupted. "Welcome, Jonas. Please have a seat."

Dr. Steve patted Jonas on the back. "Excellent job, Jonas. Excellent job." He turned to the girls, who were receiving a pop-quiz from the teacher. "Now, Jonas here is on the research track of study. I don't suppose any of you young ladies could show Jonas around?"

A blond girl in the back of the room shot her hand up. There seemed to be only one way to describe her, and that was small. Everything about her seemed so small, that it didn't surprise me in the least bit that she had chosen the research track of study. Dr. Steve brightened. "Excellent!" I noticed the Morgan girl roll her eyes at the expression. "Jonas, you can spend the day with Ms. …"

"Sutton," the blond replied. "Liz Sutton."

"Excellent. Now, Grant, if you would—"

Grant walked towards the Baxter girl, who sat in front of the Morgan girl. "I'm Grant," he said, taking the seat next to her. The Baxter girl smiled. Grant's eyes met mine, almost daring me.

"I'm Zach," I said, sliding into the seat next to the Morgan girl, "and I think I've found my guide."

At the front of the room, Dr. Steve beamed. "Excellent," he said, but one look at the girl sitting next to me told me the feeling wasn't mutual.


	10. Chapter 10

"So we meet again," I said, trying to sound as geeky and cryptic as possible. She just stared at me. "So this is the famous Gallagher Academy."

"Yes," she said, but I wasn't listening. Instead, I was picturing the girl before me sitting at a desk, writing in a notebook the CoveOps report she had submitted at the end of last semester. I had only seen a few pages of it, when I had snuck into my mother's room one time when she forced me to visit. I shook my head, forcing myself back to reality.

"And you're the famous Cammie Morgan." The girl a few paces ahead of me stopped and turned. The look in her eyes wasn't fear, but it wasn't courage either.

She nodded. "Come on," she said. "Culture and Assimilation is on the fourth floor."

I stopped walking. "Woah," I said. "You're taking me to culture class?" I smirked. She just nodded. "Boy, when they say you've got the toughest curriculum in the world, they mean it."

I had meant to be funny. Instead, she gave me a lecture on how culture can be a matter of life or death. _Yeah, right_, I thought. _Because I'm sure knowing which fork to use could be fatal information_. My argument was only helped when the teacher came floating in. "Today, ladies and gentlemen, we will be studying the art of the dance! I have been saving this very special for the arrival of our very special guests."  
I couldn't resist – I leaned down, my mouth close to Cammie's ear. "Did you hear that?" I whispered. "I'm special."

She turned, her face red. "That's a matter of—"

"Oh, Cameron, dear," the teacher gushed, her gaze falling on the Morgan girl and I. "Would you and your friend like to demonstrate for the rest of the class?" I looked down at Cammie, pretty sure I knew what her honest answer was. "You must be Zachary Goode," the teacher continued. "Welcome to the Gallagher Academy. Now, I must ask that you place your right hand in the center of Cameron's lower back." I did as I was told as the teacher, Madam Dabney, turned back to the rest of the class. "Okay, now. Everyone find a partner. Yes, girls," she said, answering an un-asked question. "Some of you will have to take turns being the boy."

To my left, I saw Grant instantly reach out and grab the Baxter girl's shoulder. She turned and smiled, and I saw Grant try to not go red – he failed. "Ladies," Madam Dabney rattled on, "you will place your right hand firmly in your partner's palm. " I felt Cammie's hand just barely touch my own.

"What's the matter, Gallagher Girl?" I asked, squeezing her hand tighter. "You're not actually mad about yesterday, are you?" Her eyes were cold as the music started. "It was a cover, Gallagher Girl," I teased. "An op. Maybe you're familiar with the concept?"

She began to protest, but Madam Dabney chose that moment to come up to us, placing one hand on each of our backs, pushing us closer together. "Hold your partners tightly," she chimed. She waltzed (no pun intended) back to the radio, turned up the volume, and sat back, obviously pleased with herself. "Come on, Gallagher Girl," I pleaded, "loosen up a little bit. Can't you just enjoy one dance?"

She looked up at me. "Sorry, but I've learned that, at spy school, _loosening up_ usually is synonymous to getting lazy. And when someone is lazy…" her gaze dropped. "they die." For, I don't know, the first time in my life, maybe, I didn't know what to say. Around us, our classmates were laughing and joking, as well as trying to not step on each other' s feet. But Cammie and I were silent, only focusing on the dance.

That night, all of us guys met in the large room at the end of the hallway our dorms were in. Dr. Steve was pacing back and forth in the front of the room, his hands in his pocket. "I believe it was an excellent day, gentlemen. Don't you agree?" We all nodded. "Now," he stopped pacing and turned to face us. "that was just the first day. You still have the rest of the semester to go. Keep up the good work, gentlemen." With that, he left the room. As soon as the door shut behind him, one of the seniors let out a breath.

"Did you guys _see_ Headmistress Morgan?"

There was a chorus of guys approving the looks of our new headmistress, but I was focusing on her name. "Ty, did you say _Morgan_?"

Ty stared at me. "Yeah. The headmistress. Rachel Morgan." He paused. "I think her daughter's in your class."  
Grant nodded, smiling. "She is. Zach's already met her." I shot him a look, and Grant thankfully stopped talking. The conversation quickly turned back to the headmistress, and once I was sure nobody was watching, I slipped out of the room, going noiselessly down the long corridor.

I'm not sure what I was looking for, exactly. I just kept walking, waiting for something to happen, I guess. I absentmindedly ran my hand along the wall as I went, when I felt it. I stopped and ran my hand over the spot again, sure I was imagining it. I couldn't see the crack, but I could definitely feel the small gap in the wall. My eyes searched the wall, but I didn't see any lever or button. I sighed and leaned against the wall, when I felt it shift. I jumped back as the wall slid back about three feet, revealing a passage. I quickly looked over my shoulder to make sure no one was coming, then silently slipped into the dim hallway. There were light bulbs hanging every twenty feet or so from the ceiling, looking ancient. The farther I went, I began hearing voices. At first they were just muffled, and I couldn't make out the words. But as I got closer, they became more audible. I recognized Joe's right away, and a female voice – whom I guessed to be Headmistress Morgan. Joe spoke first. "Zach's a good kid, Rachel," he said. I came to the end of the corridor and saw that I was standing behind a bookshelf in an office. Through the cracks, I saw Joe sitting on the edge of a desk while Headmistress Morgan sat across from him on a small sofa. I saw her put her head in her hands.

"I know," she sighed. "I know. It'd be easier if he didn't look so much like _her_." She didn't say the name, but I knew right away who she was talking about. My mother. I had heard before that we looked so much alike. "And now with Cammie and him becoming friends…" _Friends_? I thought. _The girl hates me._ She shook her head, wiping away a tear. "I don't know," she finally finished. "I trust you, Joe. If you say he's safe – that he's not a threat to Cammie, or me, or any of the girls at this school, then I'll believe you."

My heart raced as I watched Joe, waiting for his reaction. "Rachel," his voice was soft. "I promise you, okay? I _promise _you that I trust Zach one hundred percent." I turned away, slipping soundlessly back down the corridor.


	11. Chapter 11

"Zach!" Jonas's voice squeaked. He looked at the clock. "Where've you been?"

Grant smiled knowingly at Jonas. "Midnight rendezvous with the Morgan girl," he whispered, keeping his eyes on me as he spoke. I just shook my head.

"Seriously, though," Jonas pleaded. "Where were you?"

I shrugged. "I had to talk to that geography teacher, Smith, or whatever his name is."

Jonas nodded. "Yes. Mr. Smith. Countries of the World teacher." He cocked his head. "Why'd you need to talk to him?"

"End of the year project," I rattled off, not skipping a beat. Jonas nodded. After all, he knew; he understood. The more I watched the little Sutton girl, the more I saw that they seemed identical of each other. Both were obsessive about grades. Both were whizzes at computers. Both seemed like the ones to protect from danger. I thought about all the missions we had gone on at Blackthorne, how Jonas was constantly within sight of either Grant or myself. I figured that it was the same way with the girl – both were so innocent, you felt you would risk your life to protect them.

We were silent for a moment. Finally, Grant took a deep breath. "Seriously, Zach. What's up with you and her?"

"Nothing," I replied too quickly. I bit my lower lip, hoping, _praying_, that neither of them would pick up on the lie. No such luck.

"See that, Grant?" Jonas snickered. "Was I imagining things, or did Zach's breathing rate change? Isn't that one sign of lying?"

I cursed myself for being so sloppy. "She's cute, she's nice, and she's a spy. That's all I'm saying."

"What you're saying," Grant practically sang, "is that she's hot." He shoved me. "Come on, Goode. Ask her out already."

I glared at him. "I just want to be friends with her. Is that so hard to believe?"

Jonas and Grant looked at each other, a whole conversation passing between their eyes. "Yeah," they said in unison.

I rolled my eyes. "Fine," I argued. "Don't believe me. It's a free country, after all."

Grant nodded. "I intend to."

I shook my head. "You two are impossible." I said.


	12. Chapter 12

**Sorry it's been a while since I've updated - I have to study for finals, and all that jazz. Fun. I promise I'll update again when finals are over. Also, I'm sort of trying to figure out when exactly I should stop with this. Should I go all the way to the end of _Cross My Heart And Hope to Spy_, or should I stop sooner? Let me know what you think!**

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For two weeks I silently integrated myself into the Gallagher life. Well, as silently as possible when: a) I was one of only fifteen boys in a school of over one hundred girls, b) None of the Gallagher girls knew where or what Blackthorne was, exactly, and c) My name had been linked to Cammie's in more conversations than I could count. So, considering the circumstances, I'd say my assimilation was as unnoticed as possible. I continued to kick butt in P&E (both literally and metaphorically), ace all the CoveOps tests, and keep textbook-worthy posture while dancing the Viennese Waltz with Cammie in C&A. Yes, Cammie was still stuck with me as her dancing partner. I wasn't sure if that was karma on her end or luck on mine, but whatever force kept us as dance partners, I wasn't going to question it. I had done a pretty good job of staying under the radar until Joe walked into the CoveOps classroom, not even looking at us, just telling us we were going on a little trip.

Up until then, I had never been on a Gallagher Academy field trip. I was used to Blackthorne's usual "Grant, you need to sneak a bomb into the Empire State Building at exactly 1200 hours, set to detonate in thirty minutes. Zach, you need to disable that bomb. Or die." Needless to say, I had no idea what to expect as we piled into the ruby red Gallagher Academy van. I kept my eyes glued to the window, taking in every tree, every stop sign, every trash can that we passed. "Today's about the basics, ladies and gentlemen," Joe, sitting right next to me, said, his voice breaking my concentration. I want to watch you move; see you work together. Pay attention to your surroundings and remember–half of your success in this business comes from looking like you belong, so today your cover is that you're a bunch of private-school students enjoying a trip to town." I smiled, thankful that the cover was something as simple as that.

"What are we really?" Bex asked from the back seat. I saw Grant, seated on the other side of Joe, turn red at the sound of her voice. I mentally laughed, knowing she would literally kill him if she ever found out that he called her the British Bombshell.

Joe reached into his pocket, pulling out a shiny new quarter. He tossed the coin in the air, and I could feel everyone in the van stare as the coin flipped end over end before landing gently in Joe's palm. "A bunch of spies playing tag.

"Brush pass, Ms. Baxter," Joe continued. "Define it."

She rattled off the answer easily, as if he had just asked for her full name or her birthday. Joe pulled out a box as the van came to a stop, the doors opened. The box contained numerous comms units and cameras, hidden in numerous pieces of jewelry and tie clips. The streets of Roseville, Virginia seemed typical all-American town, and I wondered what it would be to live in a place like this, knowing I was safe, and not doubting that my neighbors were genuinely friendly. "Pair off," Solomon said. I didn't try to make eye contact with Cammie as I climbed out of the van, but instead prayed that, for some reason that I would never know or understand, she would have a change of heart and try to work with me out there. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Cammie instinctively reach for Bex's hand. "Oh no, Ms. Morgan," Joe stopped her as she stepped out of the vehicle. He glanced at me. "I believe you already have a partner."

"Come on, Gallagher Girl," I said with a smirk. "This should be fun." I headed toward a gazebo that sat in the town square, looking like it belonged in an old movie. "So," I said as I sat down on the gazebo steps. "Come here often?"

I saw her gaze shift for a millisecond, and rest on a brick in the gazebo that seemed to stick out just a fraction of a centimeter more than the rest. "I used to," she said absentmindedly. "But then the deputy director of the CIA made me promise to stop." I laughed. Did she know that I knew what she was talking about? "So what about you?" she asked. "Exactly where does Blackthorne Institute call home?"

I smiled. "Oh, that's classified." I tried to sound like I was teasing, but inside I was trying not to panic.

She sucked in her breath and put her hands on her hips. "So you can sleep inside the walls of my school, but I can't even know where yours is?"

I shook my head. "Trust me, Gallagher Girl, you wouldn't want to sleep in my school." I pictured the hallways lined with weapons that not even some of the highest of CIA operatives knew existed, the sections in our library dedicated to Killing: the Performing and Hiding of.

"What do you mean?" She persisted. "Why can't you tell me?"

I looked at her, so small and pretty, and tried to picture her running in formation at three in the morning like we sometimes had to do. I couldn't do it. I decided right then that, as long as I could help it, Cammie would never know the secret of Blackthorne Institute. "Just trust me, Gallagher Girl." I paused, watching her reaction. "Can you trust me?"

In the comms unit in my ear, I heard Joe fire off question after question to my classmates and Cammie's. Cammie remained silent. "Solomon's good," I said as the shortest sophomore girl dropped the quarter into another girl's purse right in front of an ATM, where Joe pointed out the presence of surveillance cameras.

She nodded. "Yeah. He is."

I thought back to my mother. "They say you're good, too." The words were out before I could stop them. I quickly began coming up with who "they" could be, none of which included the woman who had raised me. I suddenly realized that I was glad I had said them, even if it raised questions. Thankfully, Joe's voice came back in our ears before Cammie could ask any questions.

"Okay, Zach," he said. "Without turning around, tell me how many windows overlook the square from the west side."  
"Fourteen." I answered. My mind returned back what I had just told Cammie. "They say you're a real pavement artist. You know," I continued, leaning back on the gazebo steps, "it's probably a good thing that we had to tail you in D.C. If you'd been following me, I probably never would have seen you." I don't know why I continued complimenting her. I knew this was totally out of character for me, and I was sure she had noticed.

Bex and Grant began walking down the street we were on, and Cammie and I headed to the sidewalk. As Cammie passed Bex their shoulders bumped, and out of the corner of my eye I saw something shiny, something round, slip from Bex's hand to Cammie's. I raised my eyebrows, impressed at how clean the pass had been. Cammie turned down a side street, but I waited, looking at the stores around me.


	13. Chapter 13

**I'm considering re-writing this chapter - I'm not sure if I like it yet. So if it spontaneously changes, it's because I'm going completely OCD about this chapter.**

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"Hey, Cammie, I thought that was you." A high-pitched voice cracked through the comms unit. I sighed. _How on earth does she know a five-year-old kid_? I thought. The voice was obviously male, and obviously had quite a few years before it hit puberty. Cammie remained silent. "Cammie?" the kid asked. "Are you okay?"

I heard Cammie sigh. "Hi, josh," she said. I stopped dead in my tracks. _josh_? I thought (due to his total pipsqueak-ness, I refuse to capitalize his name. My apologies to the English language.). I rounded the corner and saw Cammie and _him_ standing about five feet apart. Cammie stood perfectly straight, with her back to me. Josh (beginning of a sentence – this doesn't count) was facing me, but he didn't see me (what a sucker). I nearly fell over when I saw him. My first thought was _Cammie went out with_ him_?_ I knew about her first boyfriend. I knew that she had liked him – a lot. But when I saw him, I instantly wanted to beat him up, and tell him he was an insult to the male gender. I knew about her first boyfriend! I read her report. I expected him to at least look like a _guy_, not some Justin-Bieber-wannabe.

"What are you doing here?" jimmy asked. I shook my head, debating whether I should be chivalrous and save her or watch to see how she handled herself. _We're training to someday kill people who pretend to be all goody-goody like you, you conniving little jerk_ I wanted to tell him, but decided against it.

"Oh," Cammie seemed to jump at his words. She seemed almost nervous, nothing like the girl I had tailed in D.C. "It's a school thing."

I wanted to put up my hands, step in between them, and say "okay, please clarify something. Because I'm pretty sure you broke up with him. Why are you acting like you still care?" Instead I continued to watch the two, wishing I had popcorn; after all, I like food with my entertainment. It was so much like those sappy love movies (I've never actually seen one, only the previews – just clarifying.) where the girl likes the total wimp, while the knight in shining armor (a.k.a. _me_) watches helplessly, wanting to decapitate said wimp with his (my) bare hands.

"So, how have you been?" Cammie continued. I wished she was facing me, so I could have given her a look that I hoped she would read as "why are you talking to this idiot whose IQ is probably negative 180?"

"Okay. How about you?" Wonderful. His life was still going on, without any major tragedies. Could this get any more painful?

"Okay," Cammie said.

"So we're both okay," he said. Well done, Sherlock. Why are you going to regular school again? Your deduction skills are incredible. You should be graduating from _college_ right now. With a PhD. _Loser. _"Good for us."

"josh," someone else spoke. A cute, short blond decked in pink stepped out of the pharmacy. "josh, your dad said he could…" she trailed off when she saw Cammie. "Oh my gosh, Cammie! It's great to see you!"

"Hi, DeeDee," Cammie said. I saw her reflection in the window, I'm sure the look on her face was supposed to be a smile, but it looked more like her dinner wasn't agreeing with her. "It's really good to see you too." Her voice faltered as the pink girl stepped forward and hugged her. I tensed, wondering what Joe would say if I killed two civilians on what was supposed to be a simple CoveOps outing. As Cammie awkwardly hugged back, I saw her right hand was still balled in a fist. The quarter. I groaned._ And cue the knight in shining armor_, I thought as I walked down the street toward the trio.

The two civilians stood awkwardly, a good eight inches between them. Joe's voice rang in my ear. "Okay, Ms. Morgan, let's see you hand off." I saw Cammie tense. Again. By the end of the conversation, I was sure her muscles were going to be permanently compressed.

"We're… I mean… I'm..." the girl in pink stuttered. _Great_, I thought. _So not only is he stupid, but she's incompetent of dialogue._ "I'm on the committee for the spring fling," she finally blurted out. "It's a dance… and you know… kind of a big deal…" she trailed off when she saw me. Cammie turned the quarter in her hand again.

"Cammie," I called. She turned around. "There you are." I smiled at her, and she shot me a look that could kill. "I was wondering where you'd disappeared to." I turned to he-who-shall-not-be-named and extended my hand. "I'm Zach." Unfortunately, he must have come from some other planet, because he just stared at my hand as if it were a dead fish… er, fin.

Cammie's eyes got really big for a fraction of a second, then she smiled. "Zach," she said, sounding ever-so-gracious, "This is Dee-Dee. And josh. They're…" she trailed off, and I was about to give her some choice phrases of what exactly she could call the two standing in front of us when the pink chick spoke up.

"We're friends of Cammie's." _Friends?_ That was definitely not one of the words I had thought of.

"Zach and I…" Cammie stuttered. I tried to not stare at the girl who seemed to be completely falling apart in front of a highly trained, extremely good looking operative (me) and the less-than-desirable company standing just feet away.

"I go to school with Cammie," I said, hoping she realized just how amazing and chivalrous I was being – brownie points are always good, right?

The two looked confused, and I had to go to great pains to explain the seemingly simple exchange our school was doing with Cammie's. I saw Cammie rub the quarter yet again, and did a mental victory dance. _Ask and it shall be given to you_ I silently chanted in my head as I slipped my hand into Cammie's. I felt the quarter, cold against her warm skin. I saw jackson glance down, his gaze lingering on our joined hands. "Cam," I said. "The van's leaving in ten." I turned back to the two rodents (people. I mean people) who cowered before us. "It was nice meeting you," I lied.

"You too," the blond exclaimed. I turned and walked away, leaving Cammie to say her goodbyes. I smiled as I turned the quarter over in my hand.

As I walked away, I heard pansy-boy try to invite Cammie to his precious dance. _Not on your life_, I thought. The pink girl piped up, saying that I was invited too. "That sounds like fun," Cammie said, and I hoped she was lying. Fun is waking up and finding out that you get to kill the ex-boyfriend of the girl you like – for a grade. Now _that_ sounds like fun.

I walked past Grant and "accidentally" bumped into him, knocking him to the ground. "My bad," I said, extending my hand and helping him up. The quarter passed to his hand, and I turned and headed back toward the van.


	14. Chapter 14

"Seriously. What does she see in him?" My right fist flew past Grant's ear. He shook his head.

"Zach, brother, listen to me." He landed a punch on my ribs, and I stepped back. "You need to forget about it."

I knocked him to the ground with one swift kick. "Grant, you didn't see this guy. He was, like, poster-child momma's boy." I reached down, helping Grant back up. "The whole thought of it makes me sick."

I looked to the other end of the barn, where Cammie was working on the crossbow with the small genius. I saw Cammie reach over and gently lift Liz's arm about a foot, right before the arrow went flying. The next thing I knew I was on the ground. "Zach, I thought you didn't like her."

"I don't," I answered too quickly. "It's just an insult that a girl could like a guy like _that_." Grant stared at me, and I was sure he didn't believe me. _Dang it,_ I thought. _Why is it that I can rattle off lies no problem when it doesn't matter, but at times when it actually _counts_, people can see right through me?_ I sighed. "Besides, she can't stand me, remember?"

Grant laughed as he pulled me back to my feet. "That probably has something to do with how cocky you were in D.C., don't you think?"

I rolled my eyes. "Shut up," I said, but he just laughed again.

"You know," he said, right before he barely missed hitting me in the stomach, "you could offer to go to that party with her."

I walked over to the bench along the wall of the P&E barn and grabbed a water bottle. "Yeah, and I'm sure Headmistress Morgan would greatly appreciate that. Not to mention Joe."

Grant shook his head. "They don't have to know. Isn't she supposed to be famous for her Houdini-like disappearing acts?" I was quiet. "Aha," Grant gloated. "He's speechless. Ladies and gentlemen, the amazing Grant has made poor, little Zach speechless once again." He bowed to an imaginary crowd. "Thank you, thank you. I know, I'm amazing." He turned to me. "Think about it," he said, and strutted out of the barn.

I did think about it. That night I roamed the halls, wondering if Grant actually was on to something. _It'd be easier to listen to him if he wasn't right all of the time_ I thought. I was so lost in concentration I almost didn't see a girl turn down the hallway. The lights were off, so I couldn't make out who it was at first, but then she reached behind a tapestry, revealing a secret door, and I instantly knew who it was. I walked up behind her, watching her run her hand along the tapestry, about to step behind it. "You know, I don't think I ever got the rest of my tour," I said. She jumped at my voice. "So what do you say, Gallagher Girl? Is this when I get my Cammie Morgan no-passageway-too-secret, no-wall-too-high tour?"  
She looked shocked. "How do you know about…" she trailed off.

I pointed to myself. "Spy," I said, hoping that that would make everything alright. "So," I said, leaning against the wall. "That was jimmy?"

"josh," she interrupted. I rolled my eyes. _Who cares?_ I thought. _It's not like his name means anything, anyways._

"Whatever," I said. "He's a cutie." _And so are lethal injections, and mass killings, and clowns._

She sighed, and her shoulders sank. "What do you want, Zach?" She held out her hands in surrender. "If you came to make fun, go ahead. Mock away."

Wow. _And the award for the world's biggest jerk goes to… Zach! Yay!_ "Gee," I said, looking down at my feet. "You know, I would," I tried to suppress a smile. "but you just took the fun out of it."

"Sorry." She tried to step around me, but I sidestepped, blocking her path.

"Hey," I lowered my voice. "Why'd you freeze out there today?"

The wind was blowing hard outside, causing the walls of the old mansion to creak. "I'm fine," she lied. "I'm over it."

"No you aren't, Gallagher Girl," I told her. "But you will be."


	15. Chapter 15

A dance. There's going to be a dance. With music. And formal wear. And dancing. _Dancing_. Ugh. Could my life get any worse? Actually, don't answer that. Madam Dabney announced it today. She was close to exploding when she walked into the room, gushing about the all-school exam. I glanced over at Grant, hardly knowing what to expect. At Blackthorne, all-school exams usually involve face masks, sterilized needles, a timed detonator, and about twenty gallons of liquid nitrogen, so I highly _highly_ doubted that exams at the Gallagher Academy were very similar to those at Blackthorne. I figured they would be somewhat close, though, and not totally different like _dancing_. The whole week was spent perfecting the foxtrot, getting fitted for tuxedos (which was strange, since the last time I had ever worn a tux, I had been in St. Petersburg, tied up in the back of a car that was filled with four-billion-dollars' worth of opium), and listening to girls talk on and on and on about dresses. It was some strange form of torture, but I was forced to grin and bear it.

I sat on my bed in our suite, staring at the jacket that I would soon have to wear. Jonas sat at his laptop, like he did pretty much every day. The screen was reflecting off his glasses, and I saw his eyes go big. "What?" I asked.

He glanced up. "Nothing," he said, waving me away.

My shoe went flying, smacking Jonas in the face. He glared as he readjusted his glasses. "Tell me," I said.

He sighed and turned the laptop around. "Don't kill me," he pleaded, his voice soft. The words ROSEVILLE HIGH SCHOOL were across the top of the screen, and right underneath it was a picture… of him. The sixteen-year-old baby.

"Jonas." I said, keeping my voice calm. "What are you doing."

"What does it look like he's doing, brother?" Grant's voice carried from the other side of the suite, where he was ironing his dress pants. I was about to point out that he had never worn them before, and they had been hanging in the closet since we got them, but just shook my head. Sometimes I wonder about that boy. "He's checking out your competition, dimwit."

I closed the laptop. "What competition?" I asked.

Jonas just rolled his eyes. "Zach, would it kill you to, for once in your life, admit that we were right?"

I glared at him. "Yes."


	16. Chapter 16

**I know; it's sort of weird to update two chapters within an hour of each other (give or take). But I thought I had uploaded chapter 15 right when I finished it, and I realized today that I didn't, so today I give you a gift: two chapters!**

"Hey, Zach," Grant nudged me in the ribs. "Check out the Morgan girl." He studied the girls about to descend the Grand Staircase. "Hmm. I gotta hand it to you, brother. You've landed yourself a hottie."

I rolled my eyes. "She's not mine, Grant. Quit saying that."

He grabbed my shoulders, forcing me to face him. "Zach. Listen to me. Look at her." He spun me around to see Cammie, Bex, Macey, and Liz getting gradually closer to us. Jacob, along with two other eighth graders practically ran up to Macey. One of them stepped on the end of her green dress as he approached, and I rolled my eyes. _How chivalrous_, I thought. Cammie glared at the three, then walked away. Grant gently shoved me. "Go talk to her. Now."

I reached back, managing to grab his wrist and twist it, _hard_, before over to her. "Well," I said. She turned around to face me. "You don't look hideous." It was probably the understatement of the century. She looked, in a word, amazing.

"Ditto," she quipped. She took a step toward me, her right hand on the railing that overlooked the foyer. As she stepped, her extremely painful-looking shoe caught on her equally painful-looking dress (painful to wear, not look at. She looked amazing in it), and she pitched forward.

"Easy there, Gallagher Girl," I said, instinctively reaching out, catching her before she fell.

She glared at me. "I am perfectly capable of walking down the stairs by myself," she scorned. _I tried_, I thought, when Madame Dabney walked by. She instantly stopped, glaring at Cammie.

"A lady always gracefully accepts a gentleman's arm when offered, Cammie dear." she warned. I smirked, doing a mental victory dance at the fact that, for the time, the Gallagher Academy staff was on my side.

"Stop it," Cammie spontaneously interjected.

"What?" I asked.

"You're enjoying this way too much. You're smirking." _And it's been a crime to smirk since when?_

"I got news for you, Gallagher Girl," I announced, "if you're not enjoying this, you're in the wrong business."

She opened her mouth to speak when Joe came around the corner. Now, I don't exactly know how girls classify guys as _hot_, but I'm guessing Joe fell into that category, because when he arrived, every girl in the room stopped talking and stared. He smiled. "Hello, ladies and gentlemen," he greeted. Hearing someone call us guys "gentlemen" still threw me off. "You all look very nice, but I'm afraid you aren't quite finished getting ready." I saw Macey glance over at Cammie, panic written on her face. _Good Lord,_ I thought. _How much time did they spend getting ready, exactly?_ I shook my head, not exactly wanting an answer to my unasked question. "I'm afraid that we didn't mention that tonight is something of a _masquerade_ ball."

Joe passed out folders, containing cover identities that we were expected to memorize. I opened the folder, where I was greeted with a picture of myself, the name W.W. HALE typed beneath. I quickly surveyed the folder, then handed it back to Joe. He raised his eyebrows. "All memorized, Zach?"

I nodded. "International art thief. Should be easy."

He winked at me. "Good luck," he said.

**I know, I know. Very clichéd. I'm sorry, but when I realized that Zach was an art thief, I couldn't resist.**

* * *

"Hi," A high pitched voice said from behind me. I turned. The small genius, Liz, or _Einsteinette_, as all of the guys called her, was standing behind me. She wore a pink dress, and her hair was pulled back in a way that made me want to pick her up, hand her a lollipop, and bring her back to her mommy – she looked so young and innocent.

"Hi yourself," I said, extending my hand. "W.W. Hale," I introduced.

She put her small hand in mine. "Maggie McBrayer."

"Miss McBrayer," I said, raising her hand to my mouth to kiss it in a very gentlemanly manner. "I would be ever so honored if you would dance with me." She turned red and giggled.

"It would be my pleasure," she said as Madame Dabney walked by, smiling.

She took my hand as the music began, and instantly we began the waltz that Madame Dabney had painstakingly taught us, making sure we could execute the dance perfectly. "So tell me about yourself, Miss McBrayer."

She laughed. "Oh, please, Zach, er-" She turned red again. "I mean, Mister Hale." She glanced over her shoulder, making sure no one had heard her mess-up. "Call me Maggie."

"Only if you call me Hale."

She cocked an eyebrow. "What does the W.W. stand for?"

I shook my head. "That is for me to know and you to find out," I teased.

She sighed. "Typical boy," she huffed. "Well anyways, I'm from Texas; my dad is the mayor of Austin. Texas, that is. Austin, Texas. Which is where my family lives. But I said that already." She laughed nervously. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm still getting used to this."

I spun her. "It's okay. Relax. Just tell me what was on your report. You do remember, right?" I teased.

Her face brightened. "Well, like I said, my dad is mayor. And I was named after my grandmother … And I'm a Gemini… and a vegetarian… and…" She began rattling facts off, and I laughed. I glanced over her shoulder and saw Cammie dancing with Dr. Steve. _Poor girl_, I thought, knowing that Dr. Steve was probably the least-coordinated person in the room. Cammie kept a smile on her face, though, no doubt sticking true to her cover of Tiffany St. James to the end. I glanced over at Grant, who was dancing with Courtney Bauer, who I know was crazy about Grant. Considering the fact that her cover was that she was a European princess, I'm guessing that Grant was being forced to dance with her; refusing was most likely punishable by death. Grant caught my eye and flashed me a cocky grin, and there was no doubt in my mind that his infamous playboy cover was a perfect fit for him.

The music ended, and Liz looked up at me. "Thank you so much for the dance, _Hale_," she said, then lowered her voice. "And I _will_ find out what those two Ws stand for, if it's the last thing I do." I laughed as she walked off.

"That wasn't a threat that I just heard, was it, Mister Hale?" Headmistress Morgan was standing behind me, her arms crossed, a slight smile playing on her lips.

"No ma'am," I said, and she laughed.

"Well, Mister Hale, would you be so kind as to dance with me?"

I nodded. "Of course, Madame First Lady."

"So how are you enjoying your stay in Virginia, Zachary?"

I raised my eyebrows. "Zachary? I'm sorry, ma'am; my name is Hale."

She laughed. "Very good. Now tell me honestly, how are you liking Gallagher?"

I nodded. "It's quite…" I trailed off, not sure exactly how to answer the question. "different from Blackthorne," I finally finished. She nodded knowingly.

"Thank you for the dance, Mister Hale," she said suddenly, smiling and walking away. I nodded, but she was already gone.

I looked over at Cammie again, and saw her talking to Mr. Mosckowitz, who kept pulling on the collar of his shirt as if he were nervous. I grabbed two drinks from a nearby table and headed over towards them.

"So tell me, Tiffany, are you enjoying the party?" Mr. Mosckowitz asked.

"Tiffany is the life of the party," I told him. He turned, smiling pleasantly at me. "Excuse me, Mister Secretary," I said, addressing Mr. Mosckowitz by his cover, "but I believe this is your drink." Mr. Mosckowitz looked sheepish as he took the glass. "I wonder, Mister Secretary," I asked, "would you mind if I borrowed Tiffany for a moment?"

He lifted his chin. "Not at all," he said, walking away and taking his drink with him.

I looked at Cammie. "They're playing our song," I said as the string quartet began another festive dance song. I took her arm and lead her to the middle of the dance floor. "So tell me, Tiffany St. James," I said, looking into her eyes, "what does a girl like you do for fun?"

She stared at me. "I didn't tell you my name was Tiffany St. James," she said. "How did she know?"

_Ooh, she's good_, I thought. "Oh, I always make it a point to know the names of beautiful women." She rolled her eyes, then froze. Her eyes widened, panic painted on her face. "Gallagher Girl? You okay?"

"I gotta go," she blurted, twisting out of my grasp. "Thank you very much for the dance." With that she ran toward the door.


	17. Chapter 17

"Hey, Gallagher Girl. I thought I'd find you here." I was leaning against the wall in the passage where she had almost escaped into the night I had asked her about jimmy. She jumped at the sound of my voice.

"What are you doing here?" She put her hands on her hips, her fingers playing lightly with the red fabric of her dress.  
She looked so helpless, so lost, at that moment. She looked like she needed to be protected. I thought about my mother again, and a wave of rage swept over me. "Looking for you," I told her.

"Why?" She asked.

"Because this is where you came the other day."

She looked taken back, like she had been discovered. "Oh."

I thought this might be where you come…" I trailed off, thinking of the dance that was going on in Roseville right then, where jack and the pink chick were probably holding hands, looking like a picture on some cutesy Valentine's day card. "When you're upset," I finally finished. She reached up, putting one hand on the wall next to her, as if the wall would fall without her supporting it. "So what is it, Gallagher Girl?"

She opened her mouth to speak when the lights went off, and a high-pitched, mechanical voice echoed off the walls of the mansion, repeating "CODE BLACK" over and over. Cammie gasped, and I wanted to grab her in my arms and drag her to the nearest safe house; I was sure the code black was somehow related to my mother. _No no no no no no no_, I kept chanting in my head over and over as Cammie took off running, grabbing my hand and pulling me after her. _I'll kill my mother_, I thought. _I'll kill her. I'll kill her._ Just as we got to the grand hall, the sirens stopped. "Cameron!" The headmistress had a stern look on her face. "Come up here. Now."

The boys were all in the main room in our wing of the mansion. Jonas looked up when I walked in and opened his mouth to speak, but I shot him a look that I hoped he would read as "ask any questions now and I'll kill you in your sleep." Luckily, he didn't say anything. I slipped noiselessly next to him, but Seth unfortunately noticed me. "Goode. Nice of you to join us." He laughed. "So where were you?"

"None of your business, Jameson," I said.

He held up his hands in mock surrender. "Sorry. I understand if you want to keep your midnight rendezvous with the Morgan girl secret." _Midnight rendezvous with the Morgan girl_. My pulse quickened when I realized I had heard that exact phrase before. Come from Grant's mouth.

"You're a spy, Jameson. You figure out where I was." I turned and went to our room, Grant and Jonas on my tail. "Zach, wait," Grant called after me.

I turned on him. "So tell me, Grant, is it just coincidence that Seth used the exact phrase that you used earlier?"

Grant went pale. "Come on, brother. I'm sorry. It just slipped…" he trailed off, then looked down. "Really, man. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told them that."

I glared at him. "You're right. You shouldn't have."

He sighed. "I know," he admitted, then looked up at me. "But will you tell me where you were?"

I looked him in the eyes. "Give me one reason why I should."

Grant put his hand on Jonas's shoulder. "Because our brother Jonas didn't do anything, and he probably wants to know where you were, and I'll probably be in the room when you tell him, so I'll end up knowing, too." He flashed me his smile that made me once again realize why the Gallagher staff and Dr. Steve had made his cover for the night _playboy_.

"You sicken me," I told him.

"I know." Grant beamed.

"I was with her," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. Jonas's eyes went wide, and he scooted forward so he was sitting on the edge of his bed. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "There's something not right. It's like, every time I'm with her, I…" I trailed off, not sure how to finish it.

"You're madly in love with her?" Grant asked in a sing-song voice.

"Quit being a girl, Grant." Jonas shoved him back.

"No, every time I'm with her, I feel like I need to protect her. I want to lock her up and make sure nothing ever happens to her." Grant and Jonas just stared at them, and I couldn't blame them. They were totally confused. "And there's something you should know." I took a deep breath. "About my mom."

We had all heard about the Circle of Cavan before. We knew that Blackthorne had sent numerous agents into its open arms, and we knew that Joe had worked his butt off to change that. We knew that it was a terrible, evil organization and we were to avoid it at all cost. What the guys didn't know, however, was that I knew way more than any of them about the Circle. I knew who their targets were, who they recruited. I knew who was one of the leaders in the group. Many called her ma'am. Some were brave enough, or stupid enough, to call her Catherine. I called her Mom. As I told Grant and Jonas all of this, they sat, mouths open, taking in every word. When I finally finished, they remained silent for a long time. Finally Jonas spoke up, his voice cracking. "They won't find out," he said.

"What?" I asked.

"The guys, and the girls. They won't find out. We won't tell them. As far as we're concerned, you didn't tell us any of this."

Jonas knew how many rules I had broken telling them everything, how many different punishments I was risking receiving by telling them. Grant nodded at Jonas's words, his face ashen. He held out his hand. "We're here for you, brother," he said as I took his hand and he wrapped me in his signature bro-hug. "And we won't tell anyone else that you're madly in love with the headmistress's daughter, either."

"Seriously, Grant," I groaned.

"Zach, all I want is for you to admit that you like her. Then I'll lay off. I promise."

I threw my pillow at him. "I'm tired," I said. "Maybe we can continue this conversation tomorrow."

"Chicken," Grant muttered.


	18. Chapter 18

I woke up the next morning with Jonas's face inches from mine.

"This isn't as weird as it looks," he sputtered as he shot backward. His face turned red.

"Okay," I said slowly, "explain."

Jonas smiled. "Well, you see, you were, uh…"

"You were talking in your sleep, and Jonas was trying to hear what you said," Grant called from the bathroom.

I raised my eyebrows. I couldn't tell if they were lying. The words seemed to come easily, and, well, I've been told before that I talk in my sleep. "Fine," I said. "What was I saying?"

Jonas gulped. "Cammie," he whispered.

"What was that?" I asked, sure I had misheard him.

"You were talking about the Morgan girl," Grant called. Jonas nodded.

I shook my head. It was going to be a long day.

It was Saturday, which meant I could go anywhere on the school grounds and do whatever I wanted. So I did. I started in the library, and when Cammie went in there I went to the P&E barn. I only had about an hour's worth of peace before she and Bex came in, so I had to leave there, too. It's not that I was _running_ from her, I just didn't want to see her. Call me paranoid, but I didn't want people knowing we were together during the blackout. After all, I had to keep up my mysterious, hot spy-boy reputation (not that I had one, but still). By lunch, I was exhausted. I entered the dining hall, which was already full of girls and boys eating. I saw Tina Walters, the big-mouthed sophomore who thought she was better than everybody else, talking to Cammie as I sat down. Suddenly she looked up, directly at me. Within seconds she was next to me. "So, Zach," she said, snapping her gum. "Is it true you were with Cammie during the blackout?" I looked up, my fork full of rice paused halfway to my mouth.

"Cammie?" I asked, glancing over at Cammie as I asked. "Morgan?" I laughed. "Why would I be with her?" I saw Cammie go red, and Bex shot me a look that I read as "you-better-hope-you-learn-how-to-time-travel-because-I'm-going-to-knock-you-into-the-next-century." "Yeah, sure," I admitted, "I saw her at the party, but I wasn't with her." I stood up, picking up my tray, and walked toward the door.

Cammie caught my gaze as I passed. "Zach," she said, but I kept walking.

"See ya later," I called over my shoulder.

The P&E barn is probably my favorite part of the Gallagher grounds. It's the only place where us guys could act the way we were trained without raising questions. After all, when you're in the classroom and tense up at the word _assassin_, you know you have some barriers that you need to keep up. In the P&E barn, however, it doesn't matter that you know the best way to knock out a person when you're tied up in a chair and your left hand is the only limb you managed to free from the bonds. The girls know how to do that, too. The P&E barn was sort of like Blackthorne, and I both loved and hated it for that. Right after lunch I made my way there, seeking out the punching bag in the corner. I had only been there for about five minutes when Cammie came in. I could see her reflection in the window, and she looked ticked.

Correction: she looked livid. Like someone had just killed her dog and sent its mangled body back to her via the United States Postal Service, with a note saying "sucker."

"Liar!" she yelled, and the tone of her voice forced me to stop hitting the bag and look at her.

I stepped back and pointed to myself. "Spy," I said, hoping she would take that as the universal answer for anything I did. Unfortunately, she mustn't have gotten the memo about that one yet, because she just turned even redder. I turned back to the punching bag.

"Zach," she yelled, "you know I didn't breach security last night. You know I didn't cause the code black."

_Man_, I thought, totally inappropriately, _she's cute when she's mad. _"Oh," I said, feigning innocence. "I thought it was a false alarm." She reared back and landed a hard punch on the bag. I raised my eyebrows. "Not bad." I steadied the bag. "Now put your shoulder into it."

"I know how to do it," she snapped, then kicked the bag. Hard. The kick was perfect, a textbook example, and I was about to point that out when the bag came flying toward me, hitting me in the stomach… area.

_Holy mother of…_ "Nice one, Gallagher Girl," I managed to get out as I bent over, trying to regain my breath.

"Don't call me-" she said, but I cut her off.

"Look," I said, placing my hands on her shoulders. "Do you really want everyone knowing we were together? Do you think that maybe what happened last night isn't any of Tina Walters's business? Besides," I continued, trying to not smile, "I thought you liked your interludes secret and mysterious. Your boyfriends private."

Can I go off the record for just a second here? Because what I'm about to say is fairly irrelevant, and totally unimportant, but I really wish that Cammie hadn't been standing in the exactly perfect spot, facing the exactly perfect direction so that her face was hidden from the seventeen different security cameras trained on us right then (I'm sure that was intentional). Because I would have paid big bucks for a picture of her face right then. She looked like she wasn't sure if she was terrified, or sick to her stomach, or about to kill someone. "You're not my boyfriend," she told me very matter-of-factly.

I hit the bag again. "Yeah. I noticed."

"What's that supposed to mean?" She asked. I stopped, deciding that the punching bag had received enough abuse from me for the day.

"You're the Gallagher Girl," I told her. "You figure it out. Besides, at my school we learn how to keep a secret."

She just stared at me. "Yeah. I know." She sounded like she was talking to a total idiot, and not a highly trained (and if I may say so, fairly good-looking) teenager who could easily kill her in her sleep. "I go to a school like yours."

I wanted to laugh, but what she said was anything but funny. _If only she knew…_ I thought. I looked at her. "Do you?"


	19. Chapter 19

Dr. Steve's eyes were wide, part of his face a dull orange from the firelight, the other part covered in shadows. He grinned a sickly, evil smile, and I was sure that people from missions he had been on in the past had seen that very same look on his face right before he killed them. I sat, stifling a yawn as he droned on. I would have rather heard about the people in his past missions than try to pay attention to the lame ghost story Dr. Steve was trying in vain to tell. I glanced around the campfire, seeing that all of the guys were having the same thoughts as me. Grant caught my eye and gave me a look that I read as "do we kill him and let the Gallagher maintenance staff find him, or consider this story as some strange torture that the U.S. government will one day reward us for enduring?"

"She was bound to a chair, facing an opened door. Her wrists were bloodied from trying to escape." I sat, listening to Dr. Steve, coming up with seventy-three different ways the girl in his "scary" story could have gotten out of the chair without any tools apart from her bare hands (scratch that – only seventy-two. Unless she was left-handed. Then it would be seventy-three). "And suddenly…" Dr. Steve trailed off. "Oh my. Gentlemen, I'm sorry. I know how much this group bonding thing means to all of you, but I have to go." We all remained quiet. Dr. Steve waited, probably expecting a response from us. "Well, just for an hour or so," he finally continued. "I'll be right back. In the meantime, why don't you all hit the hay for the night?" He gestured toward the tents. We groaned. Why he thought a group "camping trip" in the back lot of Gallagher was a good idea was beyond me. He stood up and quickly rushed back to the mansion.

"Suddenly she screamed," Seth said, mimicking Dr. Steve's voice with frightening accuracy. "Out of the shadows emerged…" he trailed off, making sure all of us were paying attention to the end of Dr. Steve's story. "The gruesome face of Zachary Goode!" The guys all laughed.

"I know I would scream," Cole, one of the seniors, said. I glared at him.

Jacob looked at me from the other side of the fire. There was a grin on his face that I really wanted to punch off. "No, Cole, I don't think you would scream. After all, the Morgan girl seems to like Zach's face." The guys howled. My jaw tensed.

"Aww, come on, Goode," Cole pleaded. "You know we're just joking. After all, you two couldn't possibly go out, with her mom sweet on your dad."

I looked up. His words had totally thrown me off. "What?" I asked.

He stared at me. "Come on, Goode. It's no secret. We all know Solomon's your dad. You can stop pretending, because you're not fooling anyone."

I stood up. "Cole, listen to me, and listen closely. _No one ever talks about my dad_. Do you understand?" The guys stared at me, shock written all over their faces. "You have no idea who my father is."

"Alright, Goode," Seth said. "Tell us, then. Who is the man you call 'Daddy?'"

It was a good thing that Jonas grabbed my arm then, because I was about to leap over the fire and kill Seth with my bare hands. Jonas's grip tightened. "It's not worth it, Zach," he whispered, and I realized he was right. Again. It wasn't worth fighting over. I just shook my head. "I'm going to sleep," I said, disappearing into the tent.

The guys were silent for a couple of minutes, then they started talking again. At that point, I had no desire to stay with them any longer, so I slipped out of the tent unnoticed and made my way back to the mansion. I walked toward the wing of the large building our suites were in, when I heard voices coming from my room. _My room._ They were distinctly young. Distinctly… female. I slipped noiselessly to the open door, and nearly fell over. Liz Sutton, Rebecca Baxter, and Cammie Morgan were standing in our room, planting listening devices. I dove under the bed, not making a sound, but I didn't have to worry. They were talking enough as it was. They planted the bugs, then started to leave, Cammie leading them. I could just see their faces from under the bed. Cammie paled, and I heard a very male voice say the word "excellent." Dr. Steve. I held back my laughter, wondering how the girls were going to get out of that one.

I couldn't hear exactly what they were saying, but pretty soon the girls were gone, and I'll admit it: was utterly impressed. I would have paid to see how they talked their way out of that one. Dr. Steve left, but I still waited a good thirty minutes before getting out from under the bed. I went to the first listening device they had planted, and pulled it out. I pulled out three more, but left a few – I know it sounds crazy, but I wanted them to think they could figure out whatever it was they were trying to figure out. I knew what the guys talked about, and I knew they wouldn't hear anything atypical of a guy.


	20. Chapter 20

**Hey, guys! Thanks so much for all the reviews. It's also awesome to see so many people adding my story to their favorites list! Enjoy!**

* * *

"Hey, Zach. Wait up!" Grant was calling me, running to catch up with me as I left the P&E barn. I slowed down, but didn't stop walking. "Zach! Brother," he panted. "Slow down. Goodness. I'm exhausted." I glanced at him.

"Exhausted?" I asked. "You were fighting a _girl_. You're taller, you're stronger, and you're heavier."

He shook his head. "Dude, the British Bombshell kicks…"

"The _what_?" I asked, cutting him off.

Grant looked at me. "The British Bombshell."

Jonas walked up. "Seriously, Grant? You're _still _calling her that?"

I sighed. "Calling who that?"

Jonas stared at me. "The Baxter girl. Isn't it obvious? British: adjective; the British people. Bombshell: noun; a very attractive woman."

"Thank you, Webster," Grant rolled his eyes. We headed into the mansion, to C&A (otherwise known as the longest class in the history of the world – I really need to talk to Jonas about fixing the mansion's clocks, which I am sure are slow between one and two). I managed to endure the hour-long lecture on which fork to use when faced with numerous, and how to know if the person to your right is from Europe by the way they hold said fork. As I was walking out of the tea room, I felt someone come up behind me. I turned.

"Hey, Gallagher Girl," I said, trying to not sound too surprised, because ever since the dance, the best I had gotten from her was a glare, and here she was, talking to me. "What can I do for you?"

She inhaled and pushed her hair out of her face, which was (sort of) cute. "Mr. Smith says our midterm papers have to be a joint project," she told me, as if I hadn't already heard. "And my mother says that I should make an effort to embrace the collaborative nature of this exchange experience." I looked over her shoulder, seeing if Jonas was right behind her, because that sounded like something that _Jonas_ would say, not Cammie.

"And you want to embrace me?" I asked, smiling at her reaction. _Even spy guys need hugs, too_.

"Only in the academic sense. Look, do you want to do this project or not?" She asked. _Do I want to spend time outside of class with her?_

"Sure, Gallagher Girl," I told her. "It's a date!" I didn't care that I had said that last part a little loud, or that the entire eighth grade class was now staring at Cammie, the girls doing that annoying giggling thing they always do when they think we can't hear. Jacob caught my eye as he walked by and gave me a thumbs-up. I smiled and shook my head. There was no doubt in my mind that, within half an hour, he would have told all of the other guys about what he heard me say, but at that moment, I didn't care. All I knew was that I had a study date with Cammie Morgan, which was more than any of the other guys could claim.


	21. Chapter 21

She had told me six. She had specifically told me to meet her in the library at six o'clock that night. So why, exactly, I told Jonas and Grant that I had to be there at five-thirty is beyond me. I grabbed my bag and headed to the library, claiming the back table (because every good spy/assassin knows that you have the best vantage point from the back of the room). I sat in the silence for half an hour, until at exactly six, Cammie walked in.

"Hello, Gallagher Girl," I said, and she rolled her eyes. I saw her take in the surroundings.

"So," she sat down. "What should we start on?"

I shrugged. "I don't know." _How about a game of twenty questions? Question one: do you like me? Question two: Do you think you would ever go out with me? Question three: Would you go out with me if you knew that my mother was the reason your father is dead? Question four: With that said, what are you doing tomorrow night?_ Yeah, I had absolutely no clue what to start with.

"Zach," she started. _Yes, that's my name. Don't wear it out_. "So, I was thinking we could look at the impact of propaganda in third world economies?" It sounded more like a question than a thought.

"That's what you were thinking?" If _that_ is what teenage girls think about on a regular basis, then everything I've ever heard has been a total and utter lie. I stared at her.

"Yes," she said, obvious uncomfortable with being stared at. I could understand that. She was rather infamous for blending in, going unseen. The fact that someone was actually making eye contact was probably something she wasn't used to. Either that, or she was wearing a comms unit, and the Baxter girl had made some really awkward comment. For Cammie's sake, I was seriously hoping it was the former, opposed to the latter. "So," she stuttered. "I guess we should outline the report and maybe summarize our notes and—"

_I'm sure that's exactly what she and her roommates have done with everything they've heard on the bugs they've planted_, I thought. _Detailed notes that are no doubt color-coded and cross referenced_. "Gallagher Girl, is there something you want to ask me?"

"No," she said. I was somewhat startled at how bad the lie sounded. When we were in D.C., she was amazing. The lies slipped out of her mouth seemingly effortlessly, and now she sounded like… a regular teenage girl. It was quite disappointing.

We sat in silence, Cammie's face getting redder each minute. "So," she finally said.

"So…"

"So what do you think of the Gallagher Academy?" She blurted.

"Oh. It's swell," I told her with a smirk.

A couple of the younger girls walked by, giggling – seriously, what is it with girls and giggling? I don't get it – and looked at Cammie. Cammie ignored them. I was impressed. "You handled that pretty well," I told her.

"Well, I've had some practice, I guess," she said, and I laughed. "Besides, sticks and stones."

I leaned back in my chair as she went back to studying the same page in her textbook that she had been looking at for the past five minutes, and I know for a fact that she reads an average of 180 words a minute, and there were only about 500 words on that page. You do the math. "I gotta say," I admitted, "I'm disappointed."

"Disappointed!" She seemed genuinely offended.

"Yeah, Gallagher Girl," I said with a laugh. _She's kinda cute when she's insulted, too_. "I thought you had a reputation for being… proactive?"

"Yeah," she argued, "well, what would you do if everyone thought you had breached security?"

"I'd probably," I paused, "find out everything I could about everyone who was… new? Who maybe didn't have an alibi on the night of the ball? I might even try to get close to anyone I suspected." I reached into my pocket, watching Cammie take in every word, her eyes wide. "I might even bug their rooms if I got a chance." For a fraction of a second, if that, she flinched. But then she regained her composure and laughed. "But you wouldn't do any of that, would you, Gallagher Girl?" I stood up and dropped the bugs I had pulled from our dorms onto the table.

She tried to argue, but stopped herself, speechless. _I know,_ I thought. _I take her breath away._

I leaned down next to her. "I'm not all bad, Gallagher Girl," I whispered. "Of course, I'm not all good, either." I started walking toward the doors, then stopped and called over my shoulder, "Thanks for the date!"

I wandered the hallways aimlessly for hours afterwards. I didn't get to the dorm until about three in the morning. It seemed everywhere I turned, I was faced with reminders of my mother: the science lab where she told me she first learned how to disable a bomb with just a stuffed animal and a can of silly string, the picture of Gillian Gallagher killing Ioseph Cavan, the secret passageway that lead to the bookcases behind the headmistress's office where she first heard about the circle…

I suddenly felt sick. I sat on the cold tile floor, my back against the wall. "I miss her, too." Despite my years of training, I jumped. Joe shook his head and laughed. "Getting rusty, Zach?" he asked. I shrugged. He sat next to me. "Is it hard?"

"Being here?" I asked.

Joe nodded. "All the reminders." He looked at me. "You know, you getting close to Cammie Morgan is exactly what she would want."

I nodded. "I know," I whispered. "But she doesn't have to know…" I trailed off, sure that, somehow, Catherine Goode already knew about my friendship with Cammie.

Joe put his hand on my shoulder. "Zach, I love you like a son," he paused, and I finally met his gaze. "But I love Cammie like a daughter, too. I told Rachel that I trust you one-hundred percent, and I don't want to regret telling her that."

I nodded. There didn't seem to be anything to say. He stood up. "Get some sleep, Zach," he suggested. The next thing I knew I was in Grant's, Jonas's, and my dorm.


	22. Chapter 22

**Hey, everyone! Great news - I FINISHED THE STORY THIS MORNING! I'm only a LOT bit excited. There are 28 chapters, so you'll get the ending soon! I'll try to upload a chapter a day. Then I'm starting on my next story. A lot of you have said I should write the rest of the series from Zach's POV, so I'm going to try... wish me luck.**

**Enjoy!**

**-Karsen**

* * *

I stared down at the pink ring sitting on the desk in front of me. _Seriously?_ I wanted to ask. _Of all the colors in the world, I get pink?_ Grant elbowed me in the ribs. "Great choice, Zach," he laughed. "It's a great color for you. Really brings out your eyes."

"You're an idiot, Grant."

He shook his head. "In your dreams."

Joe stood in the front of the room, explaining the importance of the rings while I slipped mine on my finger. "You have to be close to your subject," he was explaining. He stood in front of Tina Walters's desk, glancing down at her with a hint of a smile on his face. "And the rings can be fooled, with training. For example, ask me a question, Ms. Walters—any question."

I wasn't at all surprised when the Walters girl said "Do you have a girlfriend?" And I had the feeling Joe wasn't at all surprised either.

"No." Joe said.

Tina stared at the ring, then looked up in what I would imagine was pure glee. "It didn't do anything. So it's true?" _And he's _how_ much older than you?_ I wanted to ask.

"Ask me again," Joe told her. She did. "Yes," he answered, and she started waving her hand back and forth. "It's not broken, Ms. Walters, it's just not as good at detecting lies as I am at telling them." I saw Cammie staring at me, and winked at her. She instantly turned red and looked away. "Partner with the person across from you," Joe instructed.

I turned to Cammie. "Oh, this should be fun." She glared at me. "Ladies first," I offered.

"What is your name?" she asked. I nearly fell off the chair. She had an opportunity to ask me _any_ question, and she chose _that?_

"Zach," I blurted, as if it was a big secret, and I had finally gotten up the courage to let it out.

"What's your full name?"

I sighed. "That's a pretty boring question, Gallagher Girl."  
"Zach!" She exclaimed. _See, she didn't need to ask – she already knows!_

"Yes, that's correct." I grabbed her hand. "See," I pointed to the ring. "Not lying."

She glared at me. "Where were you during the Code Black?" She asked. _Now you're thinking, Gallagher Girl_.

"That's better," I told her with a smile.

"Answer the—"

"I was with you," I told her, acting offended that she had forgotten. "Remember?" She just stared at me. "My turn. Did you have fun last night?"

"Zach," she argued, "I really don't think that's what Mr. Solomon is going for with this particular exercise."

"I'll take that as a yes," I told her, and she didn't argue. "We should really do it again sometime." I nearly laughed out loud when I saw her look down at her hand, expecting the ring to softly vibrate. I was serious, but she seemed unable to believe that.

"Where are you from?" She asked, ignoring for the moment that she realized I wanted to have another study date.

"Blackthorne Institute for Boys," I told her. I wanted to point at her hand and ask _is that true?_ But I refrained.

"What do your parents do?" Her eyes were wide, and she smiled as she asked me. I was sure she was expecting that my parents were like Liz's, or Grant's, who didn't have a clue about what I was actually learning at school.

I licked my lips before responding. "What do you think they do?" I suddenly couldn't meet her gaze.

Her voice dropped. "They were CIA?" I almost didn't hear her above the other questions that were being asked in the room. I nodded.

"Used to be." I told her. She was quiet, and I felt a pang of guilt. I would have put money on the fact that she was probably thinking about her dad right then, and then more than ever I wanted to… wanted to…

I wanted to kill my mother.


	23. Chapter 23

**What the heck. I'm feeling generous, so I've decided to upload one more chapter today. I'm very sorry, this chapter is very clichéd, but I couldn't help throwing another _Heist Society_ moment in there. Please, please, please forgive me. :)**

"Hello, William." I looked up from the table, from the envelope in my hands, unopened. Liz Sutton stood in front of me, her plate looking sparse.

"Excuse me?" I asked.

She smiled. "William…" she trailed off, setting her plate down across from me, not noticing that Grant was right behind her, about to sit in that very spot. "Westley?" She stared at me as she picked up her fork. "You know, from the ball? Your name was W.W. Hale, and you wouldn't tell me what the two Ws stood for, but said that I would have to figure it out." She pulled a neatly typed list from her pocket. "I have one hundred thirty seven W names, just so you know."

I rolled my eyes. "How long have you been working on this?" I asked, almost afraid of what the answer would be.

She paused, her fork halfway to her mouth. "How long ago was the dance?"

I laughed. "Okay." I pointed down to her plate. "Is that all you're going to eat?"

She tried to glare at me, but instead laughed. "Let me guess – you could eat four plates like this."

"More like five," I told her, "but four works."

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "So are you going to tell me if I'm right?"

I shook my head. "Not William. Not Westley."

She glanced down at the list in her hand, then picked up her plate. "I'll figure it out, Zachary," she threatened.

Grant laughed. "Ooh," he said, taking his seat. "The full name." He turned to Liz. "I'm sure he's terrified."

Liz raised an eyebrow. "And I'll have you know, Grant, that if Bex hears that you've referred to her as 'the British Bombshell' one more time, you will seriously, _seriously_ regret it." She marched back to her table, taking her seat between Bex and Macey. Cammie was nowhere in sight. _Sunday, _I thought. _Dinner with her mom._

"Ouch," I said.

Grant shrugged. "I know the British Bombshell secretly loves it."

Liz turned around and looked at me from across the room. "I heard that," she mouthed, and I laughed.

"What?" Grant asked.

I shook my head. "Nothing, but you might want to watch your back for the next few days." He looked back, where Liz was still glaring at him, and waved.

"I'll be fine." He pointed to the envelope I had been subconsciously folding. "You planning on opening that, or just using it for origami practice?"

I glanced at the paper, at the recognizable handwriting. "I… I'm not sure yet." I stood up. "I'm heading out. See ya."

"Zach, wait," Grant called, but I was already gone.

It was Sunday, and I had been carrying around the sealed envelope for three days, not sure whether to open it or not. I finally made my way to one of the classrooms, and sat down next to the fireplace. Why had they even given me the letter? Wouldn't they view a letter from her as a threat? I sighed, and ripped the envelope open, pulling out the paper.

My Darling Zachary,

Hello, honey! I've missed you! I was hoping you would send your mother at least one letter, letting me know how you like my alma mater. How do you like Gallagher Academy? Quite different from Blackthorne, wouldn't you say? I do hope you're enjoying yourself.

You're probably wondering why I've written, aren't you? After all, I haven't called or written for over a year, but I want to remind you that that was all your decision. You told me that you didn't ever want to see me again. And I understand, you were mad at me. But I'm hoping that you could find it in your heart to forgive your mother. I've been watching you this past year, Zach. You are becoming a fine young man, and could be very useful to the Circle. And a little birdie told me that you've taken a liking to one of the girls there – Cameron Morgan, right? We always welcome newcomers.

Think about it, darling. You could really help your mother. The Circle will always welcome you, you know. And if you manage to convince Cameron to join? Well, as they say, "the more, the merrier." Really think about it. I don't want you making any decisions that you'll later regret.

Be a dear and stay in contact.

I love you, Zachary.

- Mom

I crumpled up the letter and shoved it in my pocket. There was _no way _I was going to write back. I stood up and began walking to the door when a noise behind me stopped me. The fireplace was moving. _A secret passage?_ I thought to myself. _And if there's someone in the secret passage, odds are that someone is…_

Cammie stepped into the fireplace. "So the tour is closed, huh?" I asked.

She jumped, and I instantly regretted scaring her. Her head hit the top of the fireplace, and she reached back, tentatively feeling the injury. "Ow," she cried. "What are you doing here?"

I was going to point out that asking that wasn't very lady like, and Madame Dabney would most certainly disapprove, but it was my fault she had just smacked her head, so I felt I sort of deserved it. "Come on," I said. I reached out and put my hand gently on the back of her head, feeling a bump. Oops. "You'll live," I told her.

Cammie stared at me. "You're being nice," she pointed out.

I shrugged. "Don't tell anyone." I looked behind her, at the room she had just come out of, and it suddenly clicked as to what she was doing there. "So…" I asked, "did your bugs hear anything interesting?" She didn't say anything. "What is it, Gallagher Girl? No snappy comebacks? Nonexistent cat named Suzie got your tongue?"

She looked shocked. "How do you know about Suzie?" she asked.

"Spy." She rolled her eyes. She uncrossed her arms and took a deep breath, but didn't say anything. She gave me a half-smile, and at that moment she looked so pretty. Before I knew what I was doing I reached out, pushed her hair out of her face…

I jerked my arm back and put my hands in my pockets, where I felt the letter. I looked down. "Why don't you ask me about it? About them?" I looked up at her. "I'll tell you mine if you'll tell me yours."

I didn't care that there were probably a dozen rules we were breaking then. We were out of our rooms past curfew, we were alone in the middle of the night, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. I watched the girl in front of me, suddenly _needing_ to hear the story from her. I knew what my mother told me – that he had valuable information that she needed. But that was just a story. Coming from Cammie, I knew it was more than a story. It was a life. "It was a mission," she finally said. "Four years ago my dad went on a mission. He didn't come home. Nobody knows what… happened."

My mother's words rang in my ears. _You are becoming a fine young man, and could be very useful to the Circle_. I hated her. "Somebody knows," I whispered.

She stared at me, her eyes brimming with tears. "What?" She asked, her voice desperate. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying somebody knows," I told her. "I'm saying you shouldn't act like there aren't any answers just because you haven't taken the time to look for them."

"What am I supposed to do, Zach? I'm just…"

She trailed off. "Just a girl?" I shrugged. "I thought you were a Gallagher Girl." She looked hurt, but I didn't want to take the words back. I turned and left her standing outside the fireplace.


	24. Chapter 24

"Seriously, brother, you have to talk to her." I looked up at Grant, who sat on the bed next to mine. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

"Tell me why you're suddenly so concerned about my, and I quote, 'love life,' unquote?"

Grant shook his head. "Well, I've never called it your _love life_, exactly, but-"

"Yes you have," Jonas called over his shoulder. He sat at his laptop, doing who knows what.

Grant glared at him. "Anyway," he continued, turning back to me. "Love life or not, you have to talk to the Morgan girl. It's been, what, two weeks since you said a single word to her? What's going on, man?"

I shook my head. "It's complicated," I told him.

Jonas turned from his computer and adjusted his glasses. "So un-complicate it."

I stared at Jonas in mock horror. "Grant, did you just hear that? Jonas jus said 'un-complicate.' Is that even a word? Call the newspaper! Jonas just used a word that's not in the dictionary!"

Jonas glared at me. "You know, Zach," he said, "I may only be on the research track, but I can still hit you where it hurts."

I smiled. "Touché."

Grant sighed. "Zach, fine. Don't tell us what's going on, but at least talk to her. We get to go to town this weekend. Maybe go with her."

I stared at Grant. "You mean, ask her on a date?"

He shrugged. "She asked you on a study date, why can't you ask her on a not-study date?"

I shrugged. "Maybe."

Grant and Jonas slapped a high-five. "We win again," Jonas said, smiling evilly.

I sighed. "You two are hopeless." I grabbed a notebook.

"What are you doing?" Jonas asked.

I looked up, feigning innocence. "Homework," I said.

Grant laughed. "Brother, you and I both know that you're done with your homework." I shrugged, then started writing.

_So I hear we get to go to town this weekend. _

_Want to catch a movie or something?_

—_Z_

_P.S. That is, if Jimmy doesn't mind._

I ripped the note out of the notebook and folded it up and put it in my pocket. I headed to the Grand Hall, knowing she was probably going to the P&E barn right then (don't ask how I knew that). I saw her at the other side of the room and headed toward her. She looked my way for a second then looked away. I shifted as I walked by her, my shoulder brushing hers. I slipped the note in her pocket and said "sorry" over my shoulder. She didn't look back, but kept walking, and I was almost afraid she wouldn't find it, but right as she got outside she stopped, her fingers slipping cautiously into her pocket. I smiled to myself and headed back to the dorm. Mission: accomplished.


	25. Chapter 25

**Hey, guys! Two chapters today! I'll post the last chapter on Saturday (which just happens to be my birthday!). Thanks for all the reviews/favorite stories/story alerts you all have given. **

* * *

Zach's got a date. Zach's got a date." Grant sang at the top of his lungs in our dorm.

"It's not a date," I insisted.

Jonas looked at me while Grant continued singing. "You keep telling yourself that, then."

"Seriously," I argued. "It's not a date. It's just two classmates going into town with the rest of the school."

"Correction," Jonas practically yelled above Grant. "It's you and a hot girl our age hanging out in town together, probably going to a movie or getting something to eat, which is exactly what you do on a _date_."

"Fine." I threw up my hands in mock surrender. "You can call it a date if you want."

"Or if _you _want."

I looked at him. "What?"

Grant stopped singing. "Come on, Zach," he said. "We all know you want to call it a date. So go ahead. Tell the world you have a date with the Morgan girl."

"I think your singing has already informed said world," I told him, but he just winked at me quite creepily.

"So what are you wearing?" Jonas asked.

"Jonas," Grant threatened, "I swear if you _ever_ ask something as girly as that again, I will personally kill you." Jonas laughed like he knew Grant was kidding – for the most part. "I'm only saying…"

"You're only saying nothing else," I told him. I grabbed my jacket. "And in answer to your question, Jonas, this." I pointed to myself, indicating the plain clothes I had chosen. "And, just in case you were planning my outfit for tonight," I opened the door. "I'm not changing." With that I shut the door behind me, before I had to listen to Grant and Jonas say anything more.

The Grand Hall was crowded with girls and guys both equally excited to get off the school grounds for a couple of hours. Cammie was standing by the door with her usual entourage: Liz, Macey, and Bex "the British Bombshell" Baxter. I made my way towards them, and as soon as Liz saw me she must have sounded the alarm, because by the time I reached Cammie's side her roommates were nowhere to be seen. I shook my head and laughed. Cammie greeted me with a smile, and my stomach seemed to tie itself in a knot. _Get ahold of yourself, _I told myself. _What is wrong with you? _I could have gone on arguing with myself for hours, but I saw Dr. Steve outside, through the window, talking to a man in a blue jacket. They shook hands, and both men disappeared into the trees. Joe came up from behind me and opened the door, looked at everyone, and said "let's go."

The entire walk to Roseville was quiet, I'm guessing because Cammie's hair kept blowing in her face. She turned red as she pushed it out of her eyes for the hundredth time. Finally she took a deep breath. "Do you want to do something?" she asked. I paused for a moment, temporarily forgetting how to speak. _Why does she have this effect on me?_ I asked myself. _She's just a girl._

"We could go to a movie," I said, "or get something to eat." Then I realized that I had just quoted Jonas from earlier. _It's you and a hot girl our age hanging out in town together, probably going to a movie or getting something to eat, which is exactly what you do on a date. _I nearly jumped out of my skin.

"Okay," she said.

"Or we could just…" I trailed off, trying to think of something my roommates hadn't suggested. "walk," I finally said lamely.

"Okay." She said again, sounding almost… nervous. I breathed an inner sigh of relief, silently celebrating the fact that I wasn't the only one with butterflies in the stomach.

I took a deep breath. I needed to snap out of whatever trance she had me in. "Or we could have that clown over there paint our faces," I suggested, pointing to the white-faced man wearing polka-dot pants and shoes longer than his forearms that was making balloon animals in honor of Roseville's Founder's Day celebration. "And then go rob the bank," I finished.

She laughed. "No way. Last October they installed a Stockholm Series 360— it'd take us at least forty-five minutes to crack it." _Well, that idea's out._

I laughed. "Good to know." I don't know if it was cockiness, or a random spurt of bravery, but for some reason I reached out and took her hand. Her hand was warm, and when she closed her fingers around mine I smiled. We walked down decorated street after decorated street, and I saw out of the corner of my eye the man Dr. Steve had been speaking to earlier. Except his jacket was red. I shook my head. _I'm sure he has his reasons, _I thought. Finally we made our way down a street that seemed deserted compared to the rush of the parade just a block over. I stopped walking and looked at Cammie.

"So, plant any good bugs lately?" I asked. She turned red with embarrassment, but smiled, and maybe it was the smile that lead me to do the gutsiest thing I've ever done. I stepped closer to her. "Just so you know, Gallagher Girl," I told her, "I'm going to kiss you know." I slipped my hands behind her head gently, and she closed her eyes. I don't care how girly I sound, but it would have been perfect.

Until _they _showed up. "Oh my gosh! Cammie, is that you?" I looked up at the reflection in the windows of the building in front of us, and said… well, I won't repeat what I said. After all, it doesn't really matter, because it was in Farsi. I wanted to kill (well, not kill, but severely wound) the two idiots who had interrupted us. I mean, who sees two people about to kiss and decides to TALK to them? Unbelievable.

"Hi, Cammie," the pink girl from our last trip to town said with a hug for Cammie and a smile for me. "I'm so glad you two are here." _I'm sorry if the feeling isn't mutual_.

He-who-shall-not-be-named stood about five feet away, his gaze locked on Cammie. _Jealous, jimmy?_ I thought. I wanted to laugh at him (but I figured Cammie wouldn't appreciate that very much). Cammie started walking down the street, and naturally, I followed (I was her date, after all). However, I didn't expect _them_ to follow, too. They made their way in front of us, as if we were supposed to follow them to who-knows-where. Cammie looked up at me, worry in her eyes. "Hey, you're gonna think I'm crazy."

_Hmm. Let's see, we just ran into your ex-boyfriend and his stuck-up little girlfriend, and now we're walking with them. _"A little late for that, Gallagher Girl."

"You haven't seen anyone following us, have you?"

I laughed, mainly out of how impressed I was. Cammie had noticed Joe's friend from earlier, too. "You mean besides your roommates?"

Cammie rolled her eyes and glanced behind her shoulder at Bex, who was casually looking in the window of a clothing store. "Yeah. Besides them."

"No." I told her. "I haven't seen anyone on our tail. Why?"

She glanced at Dr. Steve's friend. "The guy. The blue jacket." Pink girl looked back, listening to Cammie's words. _Party crasher and eavesdropper. What a reputation this girl is building._ "Don't you think he's toasty in that heavy coat?" I was surprised at how well Cammie handled that.

Actually, no. I wasn't. After all, she was a Gallagher Girl. She's great at high-pressure situations. I turned, looking where I knew the man was.

"What about him?" I asked.

"The jacket's reversible. Ten minutes ago he was wearing it the other way." I looked again, and sure enough, he had his blue jacket on. "Do you think a lot of regular guys in Roseville take the time to reverse their jackets?" She had a good point, but I didn't want to blow Joe's cover.

"Look at that guy, Gallagher Girl," I said, pointing to him as he purchased a corndog. "He's a mustard disaster looking for a place to happen. I bet you anything he's got a big stain on the other side." It could have been true.

"Now what are you two chatting about?" the girl in pink asked. She was really starting to get on my nerves.

"Oh, Cammie was trying to convince me that I should recognize that guy in the blue jacket." I turned to face her, looked her in the eyes. "But I've never seen him before in my life." Cammie nodded and smiled, looking relieved.

She turned to the pink girl and grabbed her arm. At first I thought she was going to break it in two, and thought _about time_, but then she said "I've got to go to the bathroom!"

"I'll walk with you," I said, hoping this was her excuse to get us away from our unwanted company. But she shook her head.

"No. It's a girl thing."

I stared as the two walked off, arm in arm. "So, uh, how do you like Gallagher Academy?" jimmy asked, but I didn't answer. I was too busy staring at Cammie's right hand, at the small piece of plastic on her finger similar to the one I had on a chain around my neck (turns out I could still feel the vibration, and that way nobody noticed that I had a _pink_ ring). My stomach knotted again, but it wasn't because of Cammie. She had seen right through me. _How stupid_.

I turned to jimmy. "I gotta go. Tell Cam I'll meet her at the school." He nodded, even though I knew for a fact that Cammie wasn't going to see him again that night. She was going to ditch as soon as she could. I ran back to the school, hoping, praying that I would run into Grant and Jonas and the other guys on the way.


	26. Chapter 26

"Grant!" I called, seeing my friend on the other side of the street. He had an ice cream cone in one hand, and seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the conversation he was having with the clown that I had pointed out to Cammie earlier. "Grant!" I called again, but either he didn't hear me or didn't care, because he kept talking. I walked up to him. "Hey, brother," I said, keeping my voice calm. He glared at me – after all, "brother" was his phrase, not mine. "I just saw Mr. Solomon, and he said to start rounding everybody up; it's time to head back." He nodded, as if he understood.

Grant turned to the clown. "Have a nice day," he said, and the clown waved. "Brother," he turned to me. "What's going on? First you steal my catch phrase, then you call Solomon 'Mr. Solomon,' and not 'Joe.' Something wrong?"

I nodded. "From now on, if I start quoting you and calling teachers by different names than I'm used to, you can just assume that either something's wrong, or I've been cloned. Got it?" Grant shoved me. "Anyway, I'm heading back."

Grant stared at me, wide eyed. "What's wrong?"

I shrugged. "It's no big deal. I just sort of blew it, and Cammie sort of ditched me. So I'm heading back."

"I'll come with," Grant said. On the way we saw Jonas, and he followed us back.

Just as we got to the gates, Seth and Drew, another junior, ran up to us. "Something's wrong," Drew said, his face pale. "Another code black. The girls took off in one of the vans.

I looked to Jonas. "Do you still have the tracking device?" I asked, and he held out his watch. "Good. We need to go. Now."

Within ten minutes we were outside an old, seemingly abandoned industrial complex. But then we saw the shape of two girls cutting across the lawn. "You guys find the others," I said. "I have to find Cammie." They looked at me as if I had totally lost my marbles, and maybe I had, but I felt that I needed to find her before anyone else did. I looked up, hoping an answer would fall from heaven, and saw, of all things, Cammie Morgan standing on the roof of the nearest building. I silently climbed, and stood behind her. "Cam," I whispered. She stepped back, grabbed my wrist, and began to flip me, but I leaned back, shifted my weight, and she stopped. "It's me," I said. "It's Zach."

She turned. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't throw you off this building right now," she said, and even in the darkness, I could see the anger in her eyes. "Give me one good reason—" A searchlight swept over the building, and we dropped to the roof.

"I'll give you two," I said, pointing to two men carrying guns walked around the corner.

"What's going on, Zach?" She asked once the guys were gone. "Who was that man in town?" She grabbed my arm and twisted it, pinning it behind my back. "How did you find this place? Who is down there, and what are they going to do with the list?"

_List?_ "Well, first of all, _ouch,_" I said, but her grip on my arm tightened. "Second, I came back to school after you ditched me in town with jimmy,"

"josh," she corrected.

I ignored her. "I came back to the school after you ditched me—thanks for that, by the way. Then it's all Code Black again and you and your whole class were gone. We figured you'd tracked us, so we tweaked the signal so we could follow your tracking mechanism." Well, technically, _Jonas_ tweaked the signal, but I wasn't worried about technicalities right then. "And here we are."

"Who's we?" She asked, tightening her grip again.

"Seriously, Gallagher Girl," I complained. "That hurts like a—Ow!" She twisted again. "Grant, Jonas, some of the juniors. They're here, too. They're out there with your girls." She looked up, distracted, and I took my chance. I rolled, and within two seconds Cammie was the one in the uncomfortable position.

"Cammie, look at me." She tried to get out of my grip, but I held her tighter. "Gallagher Girl."

She relaxed in my grip. "You lied," she whispered. She sounded hurt. "I know you lied in town, Zach. I know you've seen that man who was on our tail."

"That's what this is all about?" I knew she'd be ticked, but I didn't realize my lie was the reason they were _there_. "You ditched me in town and organized a war party because I lied about knowing that guy?"

She glared at me. "No, I organized a war party because someone knocked Mr. Mosckowitz out and stole the Gallagher Academy alumni list!" I pictured my mother, strong and beautiful, and also evil and deadly. I felt the terror take hold. I lessened my grip on Cammie.

"Here. Look at it." I lifted her hand, indicating the lie-detecting ring. "Or better yet, look at me. Watch my eyes, Cammie. I'm not lying. I'd seen that guy with Dr. Steve before and didn't want to blow his cover. I had no idea he was a threat. I thought he was on a training op or… I don't know… checking up on us or something. I didn't think it was a big deal. I didn't think it was worth explaining in front of…" I trailed off, refusing to speak _his_ name outloud.

"josh and DeeDee," she said.

"We're not the bad guys, Gallagher Girl," I told her, wanting more than anything for her to believe me.

She looked at me, her eyes wide. "Then who is?"

I looked past her, saw Dr. Steve, and was filled with rage. I pointed. "Him."

Cammie put a hand to her ear, trying to hear the chatter on the comms unit more clearly. "I know, Chica," she said to one of the girls. She looked at me. "Zach's with me." She paused, then smiled. "No. Tina needs to get off Grant." I wanted to laugh, but was too afraid to make a sound. "And bring him to the roof of the building on the northwest corner. They've got some explaining to do." For the third time that day, I felt sick to my stomach. She looked at me. "They're coming," she told me, crossing her arms.

Bex was the first to arrive, followed shortly thereafter by the rest of the girls, as well as Grant. "What's going on, Cam?" Bex asked. Her gaze shifted to me. "Want me to throw him off the roof?" From a normal girl, the question would have made me laugh. But not a _Gallagher_ girl. I knew that, if she wanted to, she could throw me off the roof.

Cammie studied me, her eyes meeting mine, and for the first time that semester, she looked like she trusted me. No, she didn't. Standing in the rain on the roof, she looked like she _wanted_ to trust me, and I wanted so badly for her to feel she could. "Only if he doesn't tell us what the Blackthorne Institute is and why one of their teachers is out to destroy the Gallagher Girls."

Grant's eyes widened. "What do you mean? You know what our school is."

The silence filled the roof, until I finally took a deep breath. "You've got your cover. We've got ours."

Cammie looked at me, confusion written all over her face. "What's that supposed to—"

"You're Gallagher Girls," I said, a bit too sharply. "We're the stepchild no one ever talks about."

"Then what—" She started, but the creak of hinges cut her off. Two guards left the building next to the one we were on. Her eyes widened. "He can't get away. That list can't get away."

"It won't." I told her. I went to the edge of the roof and strapped one of the harnesses the girls had left to a cable. I reached for her hand. "We've got to go now, Cam," I told her. She paused for just a moment, then stepped toward me. "Do you trust me?"

She nodded. I grabbed her and jumped, and we went flying down the zipline to the ground. As soon as our feet hit the grass Cammie ran to the building. "What are you doing?" I whispered as she knocked on the door. I watched in terror.

"Hey, can one of you guys come give me a hand with this?" She called, lowering her voice. The door opened, and I was sure she was a goner, but before the guard realized that it was a _girl_ standing in front of him, and not another guard, she grabbed him by the collar and hit him in the head hard enough to knock him out.

"Nice one," I told her, and she grinned. "Did you learn that in P&E?"

She shook her head. "No. _Buffy the Vampire Slayer._" Now, I had absolutely _no clue_ who Buffy was, and why she needed to slay vampires in the first place, but I figured that then was not the time to ask questions. Cammie studied the man on the ground. I groaned. It was the man Dr. Steve had been talking to. We dragged him to the weeds, then went through his pockets.

"Here," she said, pulling an earpiece out of his ear. "Comms." I put the comms unit in my ear, and was instantly greeted by at least a dozen male voices.

"Guys," Cammie whispered into her own comms unit as she nudged me and pointed in the window she was looking in. "I've got a visual on the subject." Dr. Steve paced the room, while four guards watched him. "Maintain your position until we give you the all clear."

I leaned toward her. "They've got at least fifteen guys," I told her.

"What do you hear?" She asked. I paused, listening.

"The plane's on its way, sir," I heard.

I looked at Cammie. "Cammie, listen to me. I don't know where he's going, or what Dr. Steve's planning to do with that list, but…" I trailed off, looked up. Sure enough, I saw the light of the small airplane. "I think I know how he's getting there."

"Guys," she whispered. "Change of plans."


	27. Chapter 27

All around me there was fighting. I wanted to stop and watch, because it was _awesome_. Everywhere I turned, there were girls throwing punching, placing kicks. "Backup!" I heard in the earpiece. "We need backup!"

"We're coming," a deep voice answered. "Three of us from the south of the building."

I had heard enough. I turned to the two closest people – Grant and Bex. "Three guys are coming around the south side of the building," I repeated. "Go!" They took off.

In a forklift, Liz sat, frantically trying to hotwire the piece of machinery. Even from across the large room, I could see the way her hands trembled, and instantly felt a surge of protection. Her face was pale, her eyes wide. She threw up her hands in frustration, then stood up. A guard walked by, not paying any attention to the one girl who wasn't fighting. She closed her eyes, and jumped on his back. Surprise lined his face, as he began struggling to get her off of him. I knew she couldn't handle him much longer – after all, he was at least a hundred and fifty pounds heavier than her. I ran towards them just as he shook her free, and she went flying. She landed on Dr. Steve's friend from earlier. I kept running toward her as another guard went toward her. She looked terrified, frozen in place as he pulled his fist back. _No!_ Even now, I'm not sure if I said the word or just thought it, but the next thing I knew I was between them, and the guard landed a punch on the side of my head. My vision swam, and I put my hand to my head, trying to get my bearings. Dr. Steve was at the other side of the room, running toward the plane. I looked at Cammie. "Go!" I screamed, and she was gone.

The closer Dr. Steve got to the plane, the less the guards actually fought. I knocked out one more guard, then went after Cammie. "I think you've got something that belongs to us," she told him very matter-of-factly. "You're not leaving with that disc."

Dr. Steve laughed, totally unaware of the fact that Bex was creeping behind him. "Oh, I believe you're just a little too…" He trailed off, his eyes going wide. His hands reached up to his neck, trying to loosen Bex's death grip she had on him.

"Late," Bex finished for him. Dr. Steve fell to the ground, bringing Bex down with him. She kept her grip, even on the ground, as the disc clattered from his pocket.

Cammie reached down and picked it up, holding it as if it were the crown jewels. "You're not taking that anywhere," she said, studying the disc. She looked up at Dr. Steve, anger in her eyes. "You're not getting on that plane."

"That's right, Ms. Morgan, he's not." Joe seemed to magically appear in the doorway of the plane. Cammie looked to him, confusion written all over her face as Joe walked down the plane's steps and over to Dr. Steve. "Are you okay, Dr. Sanders?" He asked, looking down at my teacher.

"You," Cammie stuttered. "You did this?"

Joe smiled. "Well, I had some help," he told her, as Mrs. Morgan, Cammie's mom, stepped out of the plane.

She smiled, and for the first time, I noticed that she and Cammie had the same smile. "Good job, everyone." She looked over at Bex, who still was cutting off about ninety-five percent of Dr. Steve's oxygen. "Rebecca?" She asked, and Bex's grip loosened slightly.

Joe looked down at his wrist, where his custom made watch was strapped. "Forty-two minutes," he said, obviously impressed. "Not bad." He looked to the plane. "What do you think, Harvey?"

Mr. Mosckowitz appeared in the doorway. Cammie had said he was unconscious. Cammie had said there was blood. But standing in the plane, I never would have guessed that approximately forty-two minutes ago, he was so frail and hurt. "Hi, girls," he greeted, smiling. "How'd I do?"

Cammie looked from Mr. Mosckowitz to Joe, to her mother, not sure who to fix her gaze on. "It was a test?" She finally asked.

Joe cleared his throat. "Our job isn't to get you ready for tests, Ms. Morgan. Our job is to get you ready for life."

Somewhere, someone flipped a switch, and the lights of the industrial complex suddenly came on. Tina Walters stepped forward. "So you wanted to see if we could do it for real?" she asked.

Mrs. Morgan smiled and shook her head. "No," she looked at the girls, then at us guys. "We wanted to see if you could do it together."


	28. Chapter 28

**Here it is! The last chapter! Thank you everyone for reading! Enjoy!**

- **Karsen**

**P.S. Once again, I do not own Gallagher Girls (or Zach. Heartbreak, Heartbreak)**

"Finished," Grant said, wiping the dust off of his hands. He slammed his suitcase shut. Jonas, as usual, was sitting at his computer. "Jonas," Grant called. "Time to go."

Jonas turned. "I know," he said, closing his laptop and sliding it into his backpack. He turned to me. "Ready?" he asked, slinging his backpack onto his shoulder.

I nodded. "Let's go." I grabbed my bag, and together we headed to the Grand Hall for the last time.

Dr. Steve was giving final instructions for the ride home (i.e., no trying to hijack the chopper, no making anything explode, et cetera) when Cammie appeared at the top of the staircase. She slowly made her way down, her gaze locked on me. "You're all packed," she said, looking down at my bag.

I smiled. "Yeah, we've all got baggage."

She smiled halfheartedly. She reached up, pointing to the spot on my face where the guard had punched me. "That looks bad," she told me.

I shook my head. "It isn't," I told her. "He—" I trailed off, not sure how to finish the sentence.

"Hits like a girl?" she asked, smiling.

I looked at the girl in front of me, the girl who I feared I someday _would_ see again, with my mother. I couldn't let my mother win. "Not the girls I know," I told her.

We stood in the silence, because there didn't seem to be anything else to say. Finally she slowly turned, as Dr. Steve began corralling everyone outside. "Oh, and Cammie," I called, and she looked back. I stepped forward, and did what I'd wanted to do since I first offered her candy in the elevator in D.C. back at the beginning of the semester.

I wrapped my arms around her, dipped her, and kissed her. I didn't care that, at that point, every girl in the foyer had simultaneously gone "Awww."

I let go of Cammie, and she stared at me in disbelief. I smiled at her, and she blushed. "I always finish what I start," I told her.

"So this is goodbye?" she asked.

"Come on, Gallagher Girl," I told her, promising myself right then that I _would_ see her again, but it would be on our terms, and not my mother's. I winked at her. "What would be the odds of that?"

I walked outside, not looking back. I had no clue if she was watching me go, or if she had walked away too. Grant was leaning against the chopper. He raised an eyebrow. "Correct me if I'm wrong, because I know my vision isn't perfect, but I could have _sworn_ I just saw you kiss the Morgan girl."

I laughed. "Morgan?" I asked. "_Cammie Morgan?_ Why would I be kissing her?"

"Mhm," Grant said, then winked. "Way to go, Goode," he said. Together we stepped up into the chopper.


End file.
